Pound of Flesh
by grr.cookie.rawr
Summary: It started out innocently enough with a rescue, but when Steve brings home his dashing damsel in distress- who reminds him too much of Tony to be healthy- he and the rest of the Avengers are caught up in a lot more than they bargained for. Secrets, mistrust, and conflicting feelings begin to take their toll, and their new house guest doesn't look as innocent as she used to.
1. Awkward Me, Awkward You

This is my first go at this fandom, and I don't claim to have ridiculously extensive knowledge. This will be based primarily on the movies, with only little bits and pieces of my prior knowledge and research. So there's that =] I would absolutely love any sort of response- be it praise, suggestions, or gentle and constructive criticism. And just for a heads up, this first chapter is largely just exposition. Enjoy! =D

* * *

Steve just needed to get out for a little while. He wasn't exactly used to the faster, harsher, _sexier_ ways of the world quite yet, and quite honestly, even if he was he would never be the sort of guy to have crazy party-hard nights. But he weighed his options, and he _definitely_ needed to get out.

A few months after the Chitauri fiasco Stark's beloved tower had been repaired, except this time Tony had had the strangely magnanimous idea to rename it Avengers Tower and open it up to the convenience of the team. Not so surprisingly, they all flocked to him one by one. Those who feel lost often seek company as miserable as their own.

Clint had been first, tired of the way Fury sidestepped important questions and fed him filtered information like he was some amateur. Then it was Natasha, who strolled in without feeling any sense of obligation towards expressing her reasons. No one bothered to push the subject. Steve was skeptical at first, for both petty and understandable reasons. Tony wasn't exactly his favorite person, and it didn't seem a wise idea for someone so out of touch with the world to immerse himself in the epicenter of technology. Bruce had finally submitted to the temptation of unity though, so Steve figured that if the big guy could do it, so could he.

But they were always in each other's faces, always jibing at each other. Sometimes it felt like a family, other times it just felt suffocating. Especially when Tony was in the room shoving all of his twenty-first century ideals down Steve's throat.

Steve is careful not to venture too far from the tower as he heads out on a walk to get some much needed air. He has no trouble navigating the maze that is Manhattan, but he doesn't want to be unreachable in case of an emergency. He's always thinking about his job. His obligation. It's not like there's anything else to think about.

By the time he gets to the end of the first block the sky decides to open up and pour down angry buckets of rain. He briefly considers turning back, but then he remembers how thick the tension was in that building from the aftermath of Tony and Pepper's explosive break-up (Or one of their explosive break-ups. Those seem to happen a lot.). Several members of the team had been dragged into the argument this time, and there were still some hard feelings over that. Not to mention Tony was particularly obnoxious when he was in a bad mood.

Somewhere along the line Steve has taken a turn that cuts through an alleyway, and he's immediately assaulted with the foul smell of wet garbage. He frowns into the darkness of the alley, glancing over his shoulder at the bright lights of the city before venturing into the pitch black. It's not like he's going to get assaulted by a mugger. Well, he might, but it's not like he'd lose.

Despite his shady surroundings it still surprises him when two metal trash cans crash together violently. His eyes dart over to the commotion as he hears someone curse under their breath. A woman scrambles to her feet, loose blonde curls falling wildly in her face. She wipes blood away from her cracked lip and glances over at an open doorway with acerbic look.

"And you wonder why I broke up with you?" She winces and brings a hand to clutch at her side. "I can't be the only one who's noticed your surprising lack of redeeming qualities."

A man with disheveled dark brown hair steps out of the doorway into the alleyway, slender and just barely looming over her. His hands grip her shoulders, without much force, apparently, judging by the way she looks unfazed. "I told you I've changed."

"Illustrated by the fact that you shoved me out the door into some trash. What a sweetheart you've grown into, Max."

Great. Just one more person in the world that doesn't know when to quit. The man raises a hand to slap her, but before Steve can intervene the woman has stopped the blow with the back of her arm and thrust her knee up into her ex-boyfriends gut. She smiles smugly as he stumbles back in a mixture of shock and pain.

"I've changed a bit too," she drawled backing casually away from the furious glare on his face.

The disgruntled brunet lunges at her, but his hands are only around her delicate pale throat for a half-second before Steve has hauled him off his feet by the collar of his shirt. Brown eyes widen in terror, but the man still manages a scowl.

"What, are you doing _him_ too?"

The woman peers over Steve's shoulder audaciously. "Contrary to popular belief, I do not fuck every hot guy I see. Not that it would even be any of your business anymore!"

A blush creeps up on Steve's cheeks as he grips tighter on to the now thrashing man. "No offense, Ma'am, but I think now would be the time to stop provoking him."

"Wow. _Provoking_? Haven't you ever heard of the whole not blaming the victim thing? You could be unraveling weeks of therapy here." Steve gives her a disparaging look and she sighs softly. "Fine. I get it. My lips are sealed."

The now irate 'Max' takes a swing at Steve, misses, and topples over, because apparently on top of being hotheaded and pathetic he's also wasted. It doesn't take much energy for Steve to drag him back to his feet and land a solid punch on his jaw.

It takes a while for Max to recover from the shock and strength of the blow, but when he does he has enough sense not to keep fighting. "You're crazy, man!" He scuffles backwards and away from them as Steve raises his fist again in warning. "You can have the bitch."

His scrawny form disappears out of the alley and Steve frowns. He can't really imagine himself ever talking to a woman that way. Speaking of women, he should probably make sure she's okay.

For the first time he really looks at her. She comes up to about his shoulder, and she's thin without overdoing the way so many women do these days. She has more than generous curves in all the right places, and Steve really has to remind himself to behave and look away. Her face has a smattering of light freckles just over her button nose, and full rosy colored lips that are impossible to ignore. Two hazel eyes stare up at him curiously through thick lashes.

"I'm… I'm sorry you had to go through that," Steve tells her honestly. Regardless of her big mouth, she seems like a nice girl. And even if she wasn't, nobody deserves to be treated like that.

She just smiles wryly at him and gives a small shrug. "What can I say? They just don't make men like they used to." Steve grins, because her joke is maybe a little more applicable to the situation than she probably intended, and the woman decides on the spot that that is the most adorable grin she's ever seen. "DJ."

"What?"

"My name," she huffs a little laugh. "I figure it's probably polite to at least introduce myself to my hero."

Steve's cheeks heat up again and his hand moves to rub the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Oh, I'm no hero, I'm just… Steve."

"Nice to meet you Steve." The way she says his name with her slightly smoky voice sends a chill down his spine.

Which reminds him that it's freezing and pouring down rain and DJ is shaking like a leaf in a thin cotton sundress. Though he figures maybe some of the trembles aren't from the cold.

"Let me walk you home," he offers not entirely selflessly. He'd be lying if he said he'd be able to take his eyes off of her.

DJ waves him off and starts off down the alley with a bit of a limp. "Don't sweat it. You're sweet, really, but I don't live anywhere close. I have to get on the subway, and make a transfer and everything, and I can take care of myself from here. It's no big deal."

"But you're hurt," he objects as he trails after her. "And you're clearly shaken. You're soaked and you're cold and I'd feel terrible if I swooped in and saved you just to have you get sick on me. Besides, it's nearly three in the morning. Who knows what sort of people are out this time of night." Steve hesitates a bit before saying this next part. "My place isn't very far from here."

"If I didn't get the feeling that you're a total boy scout I'd think you were trying to take advantage of me."

Steve gently takes her elbow to guide her along as he lets out a laugh. "Never. I saw the way you handled that guy. You're pretty strong for a g-" He stops abruptly, because he really needs to stop thinking that way. Natasha would kill him. Probably literally. "Uh, for someone so… Swell."

"Swell? If that's what you're like when you try to flirt, stop trying Honey."

"I wasn't- Not that you're not- I mean-" Steve stops spluttering when he looks down at her smirking and realizes she's just teasing him. He was never good on picking up on a woman's cues. "Right. Anyway, let's get you somewhere dry."

* * *

DJ stares caustically at him as they ascend the elevator in the Avengers tower. "Not a hero, huh? _Just_ Steve."

"Yeah, well, I'm off the clock. I acted purely as a concerned citizen." He could feel her gaze boring into the side of his face. He wasn't really supposed to go around telling people who he was, but it'd be a little hard to keep it to himself if she'd be staying there over night. Then again, if she works it out on her own he can't really be held accountable.

Her eyes narrow as she scrutinizes him, trying to pinpoint some defining feature and determine just who- "Oh my God," she groans as the elevator doors open to the living room. "Captain America. I look like hell in front of Captain America."

"I think you look beautiful." The words fly from Steve's mouth before he can help it, and he wants to kick himself in the face. "And, um, I really do prefer Steve."

"Duly noted," she smiles warmly as he leads her to his bedroom. His bedroom which is five times the size of hers and leave her gaping. "This is insanely awesome. I guess it pays to be friends with Tony Stark."

Steve rolls his eyes as he hands a towel to DJ and turns to rummage through his drawers for something for her to wear. "I wouldn't exactly say we're buddy-buddy, but yeah, it has its perks."

When he turns back around she's a lot closer than he remembered her being, and her pleasant scent hits him in waves. Lavender. "I don't know what possessed you to walk down that shitty alley, Steve, but I'm really grateful. Those kickboxing lessons my therapist suggested could only have gone so far, you know? Max has put me in really bad shape before and as much bravado as I might have, he still terrifies me. I'm rambling, but I think I'm trying to say thank you. So thank you."

"There's no need to-"

Suddenly her shivering body was pressed up against him as she rose to her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. Those long lashes fluttered shut, her face so close to his that he could feel the tickle against his cheeks. And then her lips were easing in at an agonizingly slow pace.

And then Steve was gently pushing her away before they made contact. "You should get changed," he told her firmly, taking a couple steps back for his own sanity.

DJ worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she shyly accepts the button down shirt. "Okay then… Sorry about, well, _that_. You know how it goes with the whole vulnerable thing. Me being all upset and you being all nice and you looking."

"I'll sleep in the living room," Steve ignores her as he's already walking briskly towards the door. "So you can have the bed. Make yourself at home."

DJ watches a little stunned as the door closes a little too loudly behind Steve. She didn't think she had been coming on _that_ strong, but she's always had terrible taste in men, so it just figures that she doesn't know how to act around the few good ones. With a sigh she heads to Steve's private bathroom to change and think of a way to make things a little less awkward in the morning.


	2. Coincidence and Compromise

Thanks to everyone who gave the first chapter a chance, and a special thanks to those who favorited/alerted/reviewed. There's actually plot in this one! Sorry if it's a little too back and forth near the end, it's the best way I saw for it to be written. Again, any and all feedback is extremely appreciated. It really inspires me to move forward with this =]

* * *

The conversation between Natasha, Clint, Bruce, and Tony comes to an abrupt halt when they spot the woman ambling into their living room. Her long hair is frizzy and jutting out in every direction, and the oversized plaid shirt she's wearing doesn't cover much below her hips. A slew of scandalous thoughts parade through their minds at the sight of her swollen lips and fresh limp.

Three pairs of eyes turn sharply to Tony. "Hey, this one's not mine. Although, if there aren't any takers…"

Steve strolls in from the kitchen then, nearly running right over her. "DJ!"

Four pairs of eyes widen almost comically at this new sliver of information.

"This little stray sex kitten is yours?" Tony asks more than a little incredulously. "What happened to the self-righteously celibate Cap I've come to know and actively avoid?"

Steve shoots him a vastly annoyed look and moves so that DJ is shielded from view. "Have some respect, please? She had a rough night."

"I bet," Natasha can't help but comment with a sly smile.

DJ patted Steve on the shoulder as she stepped back into sight. "I assure you all that Steve has been nothing but a perfect gentleman. Not for lack of trying on my part." She sends Steve a sunny smile and lets her hand drag down his bicep as she steps away. "I should probably change back into my clothes now. Thanks for the loan."

Five pairs of eyes watch speechlessly as she leaves.

"You're an idiot," Bruce mumbles as he burns into his mind the image of the button down shirt cutting low on her cleavage. "And I mean that sincerely."

"Drop it," Steve demands firmly, giving each of them a very stern look. But really, they listen to him less than they listen to Fury. Which is never.

Clint crosses his arms over his chest from his place on the couch. "Let me just get this straight for the sake of clarity. A stacked blonde was in your bed practically naked and putting the moves on you, and you just say '_no thanks_?'"

An indignant look marred Steve's features. "She was fully clothed until I left the room. And she was in a delicate situation. I'm not going to use her trauma to my advantage. That sort of insensitivity is Tony's territory."

"Steve," Natasha sighs in exasperation as she palms her face. "Please tell me you let her down tactfully."

Guilt practically oozed from Steve's pores. He'd always made an effort to be polite, but when it came to women all of his good intentions went out the window. "Well, I… I tried."

"Uh-oh," Bruce laughs in a way that's the closest thing to glee Steve's ever heard from him. "She's free game now."

"Dibs!"

"What? No. You have an on and off ex-girlfriend who would castrate you if you even looked at her twice. I get dibs." Clint stood up as if to go after DJ, but Natasha whipped her hand out and pulled him back by his shirt. "Come on!"

They all nearly jump out of their skin when someone loudly clears their throat from behind them, and they turn to see Fury with a look of steely disapproval. "I _know_ you're all talking about the breach in the system last night and not fighting over a woman."

"Don't be ridiculous," Tony scoffs folding one leg over the other. "I helped create that system. It has more security measures than Gitmo. It's impenetrable."

"Well pardon me, Stark, it must have been some _other_ high-security system containing _vitally_ confidential information dangerous to the public. I'll go check in with my _other_ superhero initiative."

Tony, being about as contrite as he ever got- which wasn't much- treaded a little more softly. "But if there had been any sort of intrusion I would have been personally alerted in several different ways."

"_Not to interrupt, Sir,_" JARVIS' synthesized voice rang through the air. "_But all alert procedures were disabled at four thirty-two last night. Or rather, this morning._"

"Um, no."

Bruce gives a humorless laugh and fiddles with the pair of glasses in his hands. "I think what Tony means is that that's equally impossible. Even if whoever did this was a hacking mastermind, Tony set up some safeguards that have to be manually shut down. I've seen them. They're in the building."

"Between two geniuses, two highly trained agents, and a super solider I would hope one of you would have noticed a God damn stranger walking in through the front door."

DJ stops in her tracks in the doorway. "This was poor timing, wasn't it?"

"Damn it Stark-"

"No no, she's not mine. Blame this one on Captain Loverboy over there."

Steve anxiously shifts his weight on his feet. "Hey now, I don't think we should be so quick to blame her. I was on the couch all night, I would have noticed if she came out of my room."

"Captain Rogers, are you telling me that you not only brought a strange woman into the tower, but you also left her unattended? Apparently that serum didn't do much for your common sense."

DJ carefully pads forward, trying to keep an annoyed look from creeping onto her features. "I think we might have a misunderstanding here. Steve just brought me here because I was attacked last night. I don't know what's got your ominous panties in a bunch, but I didn't do anything, alright?"

"Well I'll just take your word for it then," Fury retaliated sarcastically, "and call off the agents on their way to arrest you."

Tony jumps to his feet, growing antsy with the quickly escalating situation. "Hey, hey, calm down, Patches. There's an easier solution than arresting everyone you lay your eye on. JARVIS, can you pull up all footage from last night?"

"_I'm afraid I can't do that, Sir. All footage beginning at midnight was wiped nearly five minutes ago._"

"Huh." DJ wrings her hands as the atmosphere in the room get a _lot_ thicker. "Well that's unfortunate."

* * *

The handcuffs clink against the metal of the chair as she slumps down in her seat and tilts her head back in frustration. Agent Hill looks unperturbed by the fact that she's been standing for three hours as her hostage sits and glares at her, so DJ figures now's as good a time as any to annoy some answers out of her. "You're terrible at this, ya know?"

Hill just arches a perfect brow and waits.

"You haven't said a word this entire time. I don't think that's how an interrogation works." DJ shrugs and winces as the cuffs bite into her skin. "Not that I would know. I've never been interrogated before. But I do watch TV. You're no Kyra Sedgwick."

Not even a smirk at that.

"I'm pretty sure you're at least legally obligated to tell my why I've been taken into custody. And while I'm on the subject, these handcuffs? A little unnecessary."

The agent finally moves after that, stalking forward on long legs so that she stands directly in front of DJ. She bends at the waist so that they're eye level, the expression on her face still skillfully neutral. "This is not my first interrogation. And you are certainly not the first obnoxious person I've had to deal with. I can wait for a very long time, so you might as well tell us everything. I think you know exactly what you're here for."

"You're a very serious person," DJ whispers as Agent Hill's eyes sharpen. "And sort of intimidating. Has anyone ever told you that?"

Hill exhales loudly and straightens to her full height. "Are you naturally this annoying or is this for my benefit?"

"A little bit of both."

The brunette actually lets the corners of her mouth twitch a little at that. "I'm flattered. Listen, we could pull Agent Romanoff out of her meeting and this would go a lot faster, but she's a lot more intimidating than I am, and quite frankly I don't think she'd respond so well to your little quirks."

"I don't know, I think she'd find me charming."

* * *

Fury dropped a folder into the center of the table with a flourish. "This is all we could collect on our friend in there. And it's suspiciously very little."

Natasha reaches across the table to grab the folder, cracking it open. "Daisy Joelle Ryder. Twenty-three years old. Attended Bishop Kearney High School. Dropped out of college. Twice. Worked a series of odd jobs until December of last year, where she dropped off the face of the Earth."

"You sure know how to pick 'em," Tony smiles sweetly, clapping Steve on the back.

Steve shrinks away from Tony in annoyance, fixing a confused stare on the small pile of papers in Natasha's hands. "There has to be an address. Or... Or hospital records. She told me she's in therapy- there's got to be some sort of paper trail…"

"We only have her parents' address, but they reported her missing- wouldn't you know it- December of last year. Before that there are a handful of Emergency Room visits, but zilch after that. Not even a secret Swiss bank account."

"Maybe she's some sort of con-artist," Clint offers with a shrug. "She could've stolen some missing girl's identity and got mixed up with someone who paid her to infiltrate our system."

"Except we've got copies of her 'missing' posters." Natasha taps lightly on the grainy image. "Bam. There's her pretty face."

* * *

"How would I have gotten into your fancy computer system?" DJ is seconds away from stomping her feet like a toddler. She's run through the events of last night at least four times already, but apparently she's not being thorough enough. "Half the time I don't even know how to work my coffeemaker."

Agent Hill rolled her eyes, her patience coming to an end. "So you just decided to go home with Captain Rogers without any reason?"

"Um, you have seen him, right? I mean, I'm pretty sure even blind people think he's a babe. So no, it wasn't without reason. It's entirely possible I wanted to do naughty, naughty things, but I assure you that none of those things included hacking into your system."

"So after you and Captain Rogers were _intimate_-"

"Now I know I told you at least a dozen times that we weren't," DJ cut her off with a growl. "I'm pretty sure at this point you just like hearing me say I was rejected."

Hill actually cracks a real smile at this. "It is a little amusing. Yes."

* * *

"As much as you'd like to, you can't keep her handcuffed to a chair forever," Bruce reasoned. "And maybe Steve's right. Maybe it is just a coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidences, Dr. Banner."

Tony stood up and slipped a pair of sunglasses onto his face. "And I don't believe in little girls hacking my system. Let's quit wasting our time on Little Miss Sunshine and find the big bad that invaded our much sought after privacy."

"You don't get to make that call, Stark." Even Fury's eye patch seemed to be glaring. "I may not like to follow the rules myself, but even I can't let a suspicious individual walk out of here. Even if we didn't detain her, I'd have to send someone to trail her, and right now I don't have the resources to waste on that bullshit."

"So keep her with us," Steve offered quickly.

"What?"

Clint cut his eyes over. "Yeah, _what_?"

"It's my fault she's here in the first place, right? So it's only right if I'm the one to take care of it."

Fury sighed and fought the urge to rub at his throbbing temples. "If I can't waste a rookie's time, I sure as hell can't waste yours, Captain."

"Please, sir. I wouldn't feel right without the chance to rectify my mistakes."

"God damn it!" Fury all but snatches the papers out of Natasha's hands. "Fine. But if anymore weird shit happens, you get into contact with me immediately and bring that woman into custody."

The door closes with a satisfying slam behind him, and more than one person left in the room is less than thrilled with what Steve's signed them up for.


	3. Secrets Don't Make Friends

DJ sits cross-legged on the couch, silent and resolutely not looking at anyone. In the expanse of two days she had been assaulted by a psychopathic ex-boyfriend, rejected by Captain America, arrested, handcuffed, manhandled, interrogated, and locked in a tower like a fucking princess. And her new acquaintances were glaring at _her_.

She feels someone sit down next to her, and by the warmth of hard muscles she can tell that it's Steve. "Daisy…"

Her head snaps up at that, mouth gaping for a while as she fumbles for words. And feelings. She settles for the safest one. "If I wanted you to call me that I would have introduced myself that way. But I guess it doesn't mention any of my preferences in all those files you dug up on me."

"Those files didn't mention very much at all," Natasha corrected. Her gaze was sharp and unrelenting, but to DJ's credit she didn't even flinch. "Someone who can manage to disappear completely seems to be like the same sort of person who's smart enough to hack into a system."

"Christ, are we really back to this? I told the scary ice dragon lady that I didn't have anything to do with that." She huffs and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. "As for disappearing, I just have some very good friends who are very good at what they do."

Natasha slowly sat down in a chair across from her, eyes softening almost instantly. "They sound like some dangerous friends."

"Anyone can be dangerous when they need to be."

"Even you?"

A lazy smile stretched across DJ's lips. "I've spent over a year playing a very intense game of hide and seek. I don't care how good you are, do you really think I'm going to slip up now?"

"You wouldn't need to be afraid of slipping up if there wasn't something you were hiding," Natasha reasoned levelly, not at all deterred by DJ's will.

"Everyone's hiding something," she counters just as vaguely as she has been. "But that's not what makes them dangerous."

"So what does?"

Every trace of emotion on DJ's face slowly melts away in, what Steve feels, a very disturbing way. Her voice loses the playful quality it always seems to maintain when she responds. "What they _can't_hide."

Bruce makes an almost painful sound in the back of his throat, crossing his arms loosely over his ribs. Her words hit close to home, seeping into his wounds like salt. Natasha sends him a wary look out of the corner of her eye, and Clint shifts a couple steps away.

"I guess I shouldn't be offended then," DJ remarks dryly, breaking a tense, crackling silence. Steve jerks slightly in surprise. "I can't really ask you to trust me when you clearly don't even trust each other. "

"We trust each other just fine," Steve insists, mouth tugging down into a frown.

DJ shrugs and settles deep into the cushions of the couch. "Okay. It's not my place to rock the boat with my opinions. I'm just the friendly neighborhood hostage."

"I don't like your attitude," Tony breezes in from the kitchen with an already half-eaten pastry in hand. "You're acting like you're being forced to stay at the McDonald's Playground. Anyone else would kill to live in my den of iniquity."

"Yeah, well, they wouldn't have to kill to get in, just take their clothes off."

Tony mulls this over as he perches on the arm of the couch next to DJ. "You might be right. It worked for you, didn't it?"

"Oh, I like you." Her cheerful disposition comes back full force, and Steve tries not to resent Tony for being the cause of it. "I like you a lot."

"Was this supposed to be surprising?" Tony maneuvered so that his legs were draped over her lap, and Steve wanted to throw him across the room.

DJ leaned into Tony and almost immediately moaned, and Steve just really wanted to fall over dead. "What are you eating? It smells amazing."

"Cinnamon roll." He switches hands and holds it close to his body as DJ eyes it hungrily. "No no. Get your own. Whole box of them in the kitchen."

"Then get off of me before I chew through your legs. Those assholes didn't think it was necessary to feed me."

Tony rolls his eyes as he curls his legs back in. "Cannibalism is not an attractive trait in a woman."

She wordlessly flips him off as she pushes up off the couch and saunters into the other room. She's barely out of earshot before Steve turns that disapproving stare on Tony on full force.

"_Stark_."

"_Rogers_."

"Do you really think this is the appropriate time to try and get her into bed?"

Tony leered unabashedly. "I wouldn't have to _try_. But I'm just being friendly, Cap. I'm not trying to cock block America's greatest hero."

"I'm not- I mean, she's just… I don't have any feelings for her, Tony."

"Bullshit," Clint declared lifting a brow. "You might as well have pissed on her, Captain, the way you were guarding your territory."

Natasha picked up a small pot of African violets off the side table and hurled it at Clint's head, just narrowly missing as he ducked. "Fortunately for us we're not on the Bachelorette, so it's a moot point."

"I liked that plant," Bruce lamented quietly, ignored in favor of Tony striking up another argument.

"Be fair, Natasha. Steve's probably got the worst case of blue balls known to man. I'm sure we can compromise the integrity of our operation just once in order to get a friend laid. It might make him easier to work with."

* * *

DJ glanced over her shoulder at the people huddled in the living room. No one was paying attention to her, too caught up in a squabble over something that was most likely Tony's fault. She did like him, though. Not a lot of people appreciated the art of verbal sparring like he did.

Her stomach clenched painfully as she bypassed the box of cinnamon rolls to look out through the window. There had to be a balcony or fire escape somewhere, it just didn't appear to be on this side of the building. But maybe she could create a distraction big enough to get her to the elevators. In here the smoke alarm seemed like the best bet, but then again, none of those bets seemed like ones she could win. There were five of them- enough so that they could handle a small kitchen fire and a girl on the run.

"What do you know about flowers?"

DJ whirled around so fast that she nearly stumbled right over into Dr. Banner. Her heart was pounding in her ears, despite the fact that all she was faced with was a harmless, ruffled scientist with a mess of dirt and violets in his hands. "What?"

"Flowers. Do you know anything about them? This little guy was caught in the crossfire of Russian rage."

"Sorry, knowledge doesn't come with the namesake."

Bruce grabs a mug from the cabinet and gingerly deposits the flower and soil. "It's all right. I don't exactly have the right kind of green thumb, either."

"Who knew Earth's mightiest heroes were so funny?" She hopped up onto the counter next to where Bruce was standing and gave him a little nudge with her foot. "I thought scientists were supposed to be boring?"

"Oh, we're terribly boring. My sense of humor is just another side effect of the gamma radiation."

* * *

"Seriously Cap, the only person who has less game than you is Bruce. And I do mean just Bruce, because I'm pretty sure the Hulk even gets more- _Captain_, you're not even listening. How rude. What are you staring at?" Tony follows Steve's line of sight to watch as DJ grins brightly down at Bruce. "Oh. Right. Well maybe I was wrong. You're legitimately the least alluring person I know."

Steve can't even muster up the strength to be offended, because yeah, that's nothing new. He may be twice the size he used to be, but on the inside he's still that puny kid from Brooklyn who couldn't interact with a dame to save his life. For all he knows, he's probably even worse at it now. Erskine did say that bad became worse.

"He's just baiting you, Steve." Natasha tossed Tony a glare that came very close to eviscerating him. "He wouldn't be Tony Stark if he wasn't causing trouble."

"It's nothing I haven't heard before. I have no interest in getting involved with someone under investigation, anyway."

"You say that now, but when she's back in the room you'll be making puppy dog eyes at her again." Clint snorted and instinctively flinched when Natasha's hand warningly flew to a small decorative sculpture.

* * *

"So have you changed your mind?"

DJ looked up, startled, from the purple flower Bruce was tending to. "About…?"

"Jumping out the window and hoping for the best." Bruce gave a small smile at her surprise. "I've been there before."

"Yes. I gave up on the window idea a while back. I was actually planning ways to make a break for the elevators." She looks at him skeptically through the curls falling into her face. "Is this the part where you handcuff me to a chair again?"

Bruce huffed out what was supposed to be a laugh. "This is the part where I tell you running won't help. They'll find you. They always do."

DJ groaned and slipped down off the counter. "I just want to be left alone. That's all I've ever wanted. Apparently that makes me a criminal now."

"I don't think that's what makes you a criminal."

"Wow Dr. Banner, put that sassiness away." DJ finally gets around to procuring her cinnamon roll, taking a deep inhale at the warm gooey pastry. "I didn't get the vibe that you were team DJ-is-an-evil-mastermind."

Bruce watches in amusement as she takes a monstrous bite out of the roll. "I don't think you hacked the system, no. But nobody fades off the radar without breaking a few laws."

"Yeah? Well maybe next time I decide to pull a Where's Waldo you can give me some felony-free pointers."

"Step one: don't turn into a monster."

DJ throws her head back in a hearty laugh as she prances back towards the living room. "I think that's the best advice I've ever gotten."

Clint notes with satisfaction that Steve's eyes immediately take on the puppy dog quality as DJ hops into the room. He's just smart enough not to send Natasha a smug look.

Throwing herself down across the couch, DJ sprawls with her head resting on Steve's lap. Steve is immediately overwhelmed by that soothing smell of lavender and that big, disarming smile. "Hey Captain Hottiepants, why the face?"

She mentally berates herself for the comment, because she had wanted to stop acting so, well, _herself_around Steve. She was all too aware that she was a lot to handle. "Um, you want some?" She waves the cinnamon roll in front of Steve's face. "I'm not above sharing, unlike a certain billionaire I know."

Steve opens his mouth to respond, but before he can get the words out DJ has ripped off a piece of her pastry and popped it into his mouth. _God, how stupid are you, Daisy? You can't just go around shoving things in hot peoples' mouths_. "Yummy?"

"Mhm," Steve laughs around a full mouth, eyes lighting up as he looks down at her. "Thanks."

DJ nods as she finishes off her snack and licks the frosting off her fingers, while Steve sits there and privately has a heart attack. "I hope you don't plan on moving for a while, because you're exceptionally comfortable and I have plans for a nap."

"Uh, yeah, okay. Be my guest." But all Steve was really thinking was that this girl was going to be the death of him. But a very, very _good_ death.

* * *

So comments, suggestions, complaints, or praise?


	4. Shaky Ground

With a long stretch and a sleepy whimper DJ nuzzles into the firm warmth against her cheek. When she realizes her pillow is gently rising and falling, she reluctantly flutters her eyes open to a face full of soft white cotton stretched over a nice set of abs. Her gaze flickers upward and she almost gasps at the sight of those gorgeous blue eyes. She could really get used to waking up this way.

"Steve? Wow, you really didn't have to sit here all this time."

"It's no problem," he shrugged genially. "Bruce brought me a book to read."

She squints her eyes to read the title and nearly laughs out loud. _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_. "Why are you the most perfect human being I've ever met?"

"Well, there was this serum a while ago," Steve joked with a crooked smile. "That might have something to do with it."

DJ abruptly sits up, and Steve has to resist the urge to wrap his arms around her and lay her back down. His compulsion is moderately satisfied as she presses up against his side, letting his arm rest around her shoulders. "Speaking of that nifty serum, what all did it effect? I mean besides making you Mr. Muscles?"

"What?" Steve's brain gets a little sidetracked as DJ walks her fingers up his bicep, and he's not proud of the way his voice cracks.

"Oh don't look at me like that. It's not like I was talking about your penis or something." She laughs as his cheeks flare up with heat and his eyebrows twist in horror. "I just meant, like, weird stuff- trivial, even. Like are you ridiculously ticklish now?"

Steve watches with amusement as her fingers dance a path across his pecs. "No. I've never really been all that ticklish in the first place."

"What?" DJ pulls a scandalized face. "That's no fun! That's unheard of. I'm very upset by this news… But I guess there's no room for sensitive skin with all this rock hard muscle." She runs the flat of her palm low over Steve's stomach, reveling in the ripple of his abs. It's only when he sharply curls his hand around her wrist that she realizes that she's still being a complete moron as far as Steve is concerned. "Oh! I'm… I'm sorry. Sometimes I don't even realize I do things like that. I'm a very touchy-feely person, always in peoples' personal space. It freaks people out sometimes."

"Don't worry about it," Steve's face goes a little slack with dopey contentment, instantly pleased to know that the way DJ bumps and cuddles everyone doesn't hold much significance. "I don't mind."

"Great." Steve might be a little biased when he thinks that her laugh is one of the most angelic things he's heard. "Note to self: Steve is up for being groped." And _wow_is she not an angel. She misinterprets the pinched look on his face and grimaces. "Yeah, I say dumb shit all the time, too. I should come with multiple warning labels."

It's like his fingers have a mind of their own when they lace through hers. "I like surprises. A little mystery never hurt anybody."

"Would this be an awkward time to bring up the fact that one of your shady uniformed friends handcuffed me to a chair and tried to intimidate all the mystery out of me?"

Steve shyly toys with the end of one of her springy curls with his free hand. "That's my fault. Fury was right- I shouldn't have left you alone. If not for security, your safety is a pretty good reason." The pure and earnest look on his face melts DJ on the spot. "I know you had nothing to do with the breach. I hate that I helped you out of one bad situation and pushed you right into another. If I could fix it, Daisy, I would."

"Again with that Daisy nonsense," she whispers a little shakily. Goosebumps rise at the memory of that name falling from someone else's lips not all that long ago, in a voice not nearly as pleasant as Steve's. Not pleasant at all…

She shakes away the storm clouds brewing over her head and forces a sardonic smile onto her face. "Don't you worry your pretty little head of yours over my 'bad situation.' This is nicer than any hotel I've ever been in, and I only have to pay via being antagonized. Plus I made all these shiny new friends. I mean, Natasha's kind of got the super-bitch thing going on, and Clint has these shifty weasel eyes around me, but they'll warm up to me eventually."

"I won't be surprised if they do." Steve's a little distracted by DJ's small, soft hands and the gentle curve of her pink lips. "You're like a dog."

"Um…"

Steve winces and his hands fall away from her hair and her fingers to rest in his lap. "Like a puppy, I mean. Because you're so happy and energetic and-"

"Swell?"

"I was going to say hard to ignore. You're not going to ever forget the 'swell' thing, are you?"

DJ grins roughly pats his cheek. "Nope. I'm not going to forget you called me a dog, either. Or that 'energetic and hard to ignore' sounds suspiciously close to obnoxious."

"I didn't realize dames were so hard to compliment." The way Steve's face screws up in frustration makes DJ want to pinch his cheeks. Or mount him like a horse, but it's that train of thought that always gets her on shaky ground with Steve. "Tony always makes it look so easy."

"I'm sure it was a breeze way back when. A guy could probably call a woman pretty without her thinking he was only after getting her into bed. Then again, that probably was all he was after. Men don't really change. But women are different now, and well, I'm just different in general. There's a lot of different happening here and it's not working out so well for you."

Steve's face takes on an intensely serious face and it makes DJ squirm uncomfortably the way all serious things do. "When I try to compliment you it's not because I'm after…"

"Ripping my clothes off, tossing me onto any flat surface, and ravishing me?" Steve twitched and DJ softly sighed. "Yeah, believe me, I know you're not."

The sudden click of heels on the floor has DJ pushing up off the couch alert and anxious. Natasha never makes a sound when she enters the room, and the last time she checked none of the guys have taken up cross-dressing. The likelihood that it's Agent Hill strutting in to arrest her again seems all too high, and DJ's not willing to be so passive about it this time. But instead of Mega Bitch it was a tall, slender redhead whose impeccable clothes were disheveled, ripped, and dirtied.

"Pepper?" Steve's voice was low with concern as he stood up and approached her like she was a battered animal on the side of the road.

A small smile of relief twitched on her pale lips. "Steve!"

"DJ!" Tony strolls into the room, intently focused on the phone in his hands. "I've taken the liberty of setting up the bedroom across from Steve's. I've also ordered you a whole new wardrobe. You can only wear Cap's sweatpants so many days in a row, and-"

"Tony?" DJ cuts him off mid-rant. "Kind of a thing happening here."

He looks up in disinterest, but that quickly gives way to surprise. "Pepper!"

"_Tony_. I'd like to talk to you in private, if that's okay." The way it was phrased wasn't really a suggestion, but a command that still managed to sound polite.

DJ narrowed her eyes in suspicious little slits as Steve intently watched Pepper leave with Tony in tow. "Who the hell is _Pepper_?"

* * *

"Who is this _DJ_?" Pepper asked suspiciously as soon as they were sequestered away in Tony's workshop. "I leave for a couple of days and suddenly there's a strange woman moving in?"

Tony's fingers itch for something to do when faced with that perfected disapproving look of hers, and he's never been one to show restraint. His hands fly to the nearest screen where he starts modifying something which- to Pepper- looks unsettlingly like a cross between a torture device and an angry alien tree. "Not so much moving in as being held prisoner. Semantics, you know. And there's this whole Stockholm syndrome thing going on, because she's all smiles and sunshine and cuddles. But it goes both ways. For the most part. Natasha is definitely anti-smile. But Steve is all for the cuddles."

"I wasn't very happy when you decided that being a superhero was your calling, but I accepted that and dealt with it. It's a part of who you are and that's a part of why I love you." Pepper steps in front of the screen Tony is rapidly tapping and forces him to look at her. "But there's a huge difference between catching the bad guys and being the one to punish them."

"Very little punishing going on. Investigating? Yes. Laughable attempts at wooing? In abundance. No whippings or waterboarding. Yet. You never know what women are into these days."

Pepper looks wholly unamused. "Is she dangerous?"

"Unlikely. It's mostly a lavish display of Fury's authority. There is zero chance that she's the one that hacked into our system. But somebody did, and that somebody is going to be _very_sorry, because I don't take failure well." Tony gestured to the ominous viney-contraption that he had been fooling with on his computer. "Hence this."

"And what is **this**?"

Tony gives a smug, tight-lipped smile. "New security measure. DNA based safeguard."

"Which means?"

"Once this puppy gets installed in the walls anyone without my genetic code that tries to disable my manual security precautions will have to say hello to a whole hell of a lot of booby-traps."

She would look impressed if she didn't look so disturbed. "This looks like something out of my nightmares, Tony. How does it read your DNA?"

"Blood. Just a tiny bit. No more than you'd give at a blood bank." At Pepper's sick look Tony quickly cleared his screen. "Joking. Just a finger prick. Besides, there really shouldn't be any reason to shut it down, anyway."

"I still don't like it."

"It'll grow on you," Tony assured her as he placed a hand on her lower back and ushered her towards a chair to sit down. "So what's the story?"

Pepper uselessly brushed off her tattered blouse and gave a sigh. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't notice."

"I notice. Of course I notice. Why wouldn't I notice? You're always so neat. Orderly. Every hair has its place. You've walked away from explosions looking perfectly composed. It's a little unsettling. Now, not so much."

"Thanks, Tony," Pepper replied dryly. "I was attacked. By robots."


	5. Speculation

"Clearly they weren't sent with intent to kill," Natasha reasoned from her spot by the kitchen counter. "Even if there were half as many as she's saying there were it would've been an easy mark. No offense."

"None taken." Judging by the look on Pepper's face that wasn't entirely true. "But if that was just a scare tactic why would they go after _me_?"

Tony raised his arms at his side and spun in a dramatic fashion. "To get my attention. Not that you're not great, Pep- seriously, don't undervalue yourself- but robots are sort of my thing, and since I'm currently in a tower with my suit and a merry band of do-gooders the most obvious method of bending me to their will would be to go after my girlfriend."

"_Ex_-girlfriend," Clint corrected with a subtle hint of smugness. "And maybe, like usual, it's not all about you. Maybe it was a message to all of us. Think about it. Tasha and I know better than to make outside emotional attachments, Bruce has been estranged from humanity, and everyone Steve loves is dead."

DJ makes a pained gasp (in a totally undignified sense of misplaced jealousy over said dead loved ones of Steve) and grabs a green apple out of a bowl to toss at Clint's head. He not only dodges it, but it manages to hit poor, innocent bystander Bruce. "Do you have to _try_ to be that much of an insensitive asshole, or does it just come naturally?"

"I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone," Pepper sighed rubbing her temples. "Tony's usually the one being reprimanded for his loose mouth."

"Is it his loose mouth or loose morals?" Bruce countered with a private smile.

Steve put his hands on his hips and put his authoritative voice to use. DJ really liked that voice way too much. "Maybe we should stay on topic. How'd you manage to beat them, Ms. Potts?"

"Beat them? No, no, no. I didn't _beat_ them at all. They blew up my apartment and I ran away."

"Did they pursue you?" Natasha asked, always on task.

Pepper heaved an exasperated breath and slid down off her stool to stalk over to the fridge and pull out a bottle of red wine. "I don't think you guys fully understand what I'm saying. _They blew up my apartment_. There weren't any robots **left** to pursue me."

"They waited until you were gone?" Bruce frowned and scratched his fingers through his mop of hair. "If they were after something- after destroying something- I don't think they'd have any qualms about hurting you in the crossfires. It's not like whoever created these has a strong moral compass. There were other people in the building that probably got hurt. So… So they were specifically trying to scare you. Or us."

"So it's basically a taunt," Tony agrees unimpressed. "A 'ha, ha I know how to get to the things you love' dance. And do you how someone would know what weaknesses to exploit?"

Steve's eyes flicked nervously over at DJ. "By hacking into the system."

"I'm going to end up in handcuffs again, aren't I?" DJ knows that scales of karma aren't exactly tipping in her favor, but this is really starting to get ridiculous.

"As hot as it would be to watch you and Agent Hill throw down, I'm not a big fan of wasting my valuable time." Tony pried the wine glass out of Pepper's hand before she could start on her second glass. "I don't need you getting sloppy right now. My attention needs to focus on this new villain business, so-"

"So you need me to make up a million and one excuses as to why you can't attend the million and one things you have coming up." Pepper gives a longing glass to the bottle that Tony tucks away. "Wonderful."

Tony blows her a placating kiss- which melts Pepper in ways that it shouldn't- and turns his attention back to DJ. "Even if we're still running on that crack theory that you hacked into the system, those smooth baby hands of yours haven't built a thing in your life. Those bots weren't yours. I'd rather find out who's they are than satisfy Fury's power trip."

"And how do you intend to find that out?" Natasha's usually stoic face had the smallest pinch of annoyance, was entirely terrifying to all involved. "Any leads are incinerated. If this guy wanted to be found he wouldn't be so thorough in covering his tracks. He's playing with us."

"Exactly." The grin that Tony sports is slightly manic. "So we join the game. We wait."

Waiting doesn't turn out to be as glamorous as he made it sound. There's about a half hour of silent camaraderie in the kitchen before everyone starts to get bored and branch out. Tony, predictably, disappears off to his workshop, undoubtedly to make upgrades to his suit so that when he finally finds the person that's been screwing with them he can properly and efficiently kick his or her ass.

Pepper's already gone off with a cellphone to sweet talk Tony out of some serious upcoming obligations. Steve ends up back in the living room to pick up where he left off with his book while Bruce and Natasha scuffle (on Bruce's part, DJ is pretty sure Natasha just floats everywhere) around the kitchen starting on dinner. Who knows where Clint slinked off to. Probably one of the lofts tucked throughout the tower.

DJ hasn't moved from where she's leaning against the counter, watching as everyone putters from place to place interacting and working in synch. The way every once and a while a rubber dart will hit something from a different places in the ceiling. How no one even flinches when a less than promising clatter comes from the direction Tony exited. The shaky, hesitant smiles that Bruce and Natasha toss at each other like the gesture is something they'd forgotten for a while.

It doesn't take DJ long to realize that she was wrong. They do trust each other. More than anything. They just don't always like each other. And that sounds and looks and feels more like a family than anything else DJ can remember. She's surprised she _can_ remember. It's been so long since she's really been a part of anything like that.

"I'm sorry I hit you," she mumbles so softly that she's actually surprised when Bruce and Natasha stop what they're doing to give her matching looks of confusion.

"What?" Bruce's face slowly and kindly displays that he think DJ's had a mental breakdown and invented an alternate reality in her head.

DJ just rolls her eyes, because yeah, she's gotten used to that look over the years. "With an apple." The explanation does nothing to change Bruce's theory. "I'm sorry I hit you with an apple."

"Oh, that." It finally clicks in Bruce's brain and Natasha has gone back to cutting vegetables, clearly deeming this conversation unworthy of her attention. "It's not a big deal. I've been hit with worse. Apples sort of pale in comparison to bullets."

"It _is_ a big deal." Something in her tone must have rubbed Natasha the wrong way, because she turned to face DJ again without putting her kitchen knife down. "To me anyway. So I'm sorry."

Bruce very calmly slips the knife from Natasha's fingers and tosses it off to the side on the counter. "Steve told me about your last relationship. I understand if you're sensitive about a few things, but this isn't going to be a violence free environment. We're the Avengers, violence is in our job description. And we're annoying- you'll want to hit a lot of people with apples here, and that's okay."

"Listen, I'm apologizing. It's for my benefit." She tangles her hands in her hair and tugs until there's a light sting. It's the only thing that's keeping her from grabbing Bruce by the shoulders and giving him an aggravated shake. And that would only end with her getting flattened by a Hulk. "I appreciate what you're trying to do right now, really, but you have no idea what you're talking about. I have issues and my usual methods of running away from them with a bottle of vodka and a couple of Xanax aren't really available to me right now. We're doing this old school with measured breathing and therapeutic apologies. So accept my fucking apology, Bruce."

Before Bruce actually gets the chance to accept, Natasha is thrusting a small flask of vodka at DJ, who takes it a little dumbfound and curious as to where the sneaky Russian pulled it from. DJ quickly realizes she doesn't really care where it came from and gives Natasha a near blinding grin, which the assassin returns on a much smaller scale.

"So do you intend to make a move, or just keep silently suffering?"

Steve doesn't have to lift his head to know that Clint is perched on a loft that he specifically requested Tony add during repairs to the tower. "You'll have to elaborate." He doesn't have to elaborate. Steve knows exactly what he's talking about because there's only one thing that's severely threatening his sanity at the moment.

"Sure. Okay. Am I supposed to pretend I didn't notice you paid more attention to DJ napping than the book in your hands? Or that you ran into the doorjamb when she bent over to pick something up off the kitchen floor? Or that you turn as green as Bruce whenever Tony talks to her? Because even if I pretended all that escaped my watchful eye there's plenty more evidence to suggest you want to get into her pants."

"I do not want to… Do that." Steve finally puts an end to the ruse that he's actually reading, gently placing his book of to the side.

Clint gives a solid laugh at Steve's expense. "Yeah, I heard you tell her that, too. S.H.I.E.L.D. should've offered a refresher course in hooking up."

"Exactly how long were you watching?" Steve's gritting his teeth, but the faint tinge on his cheeks gives away that it's more from embarrassment than annoyance.

"Long enough to know that if you asked her out on a date or whatever she'd say yes."

Interest piqued, Steve finally tilts his head back to look at him. "Did she say that, or are you speculating?"

"Of course she didn't say that. She's not a twelve year old girl. Women don't actually come out and say things, Steve."

Steve wouldn't actually say no to that hypothetical refresher course at the moment. This shouldn't be so complicated for somebody who has staged multiple missions. "But how am I supposed to know what they expect if they never _say_ it?"

"It's a science that even Bruce and Tony haven't aced." Clint hops down with practiced grace. "But if she uses words like grope or ravish, then she's probably into you."

A stumbling, blonde whirlwind bursts into the room and nearly face plants when she trips over Clint. "Steeeeve!

"Someone made a friend," Clint laughed grabbing her shoulders to steady her. "Tasha bust out the vodka?"

DJ's hands framed his face and she spoke to him very seriously. "Yes. Her friendship is more dangerous than her hatred. Where's Steve?"

"Couch."

"Steve!" She crawls across Tony's ridiculously expensive coffee table until she's practically half-sprawled in Steve's lap. "When's the last time you gave someone a piggy back ride?"

Torn between worry and confusion, Steve slides his hands under her arms and hauls her up so she's not nuzzling his thigh anymore. "Never. I've carried injured people before, I just haven't…"

"You just haven't had fun! I see." DJ twists impressively out of his grasp until she's standing and tugging on his wrists. "Well get up, because I'm going to ride you! I mean, um… Yeah, just get up!"

It takes a few seconds for Steve to get the brain power to respond as DJ starts pawing at him in what only barely passes as attempts to climb him. "I think- _ow_- I mean, you probably shouldn't. I actually- hey stop that- I wanted to ask you something."

DJ blinked owlishly. "What?"

"Would you like to…" Steve took a fortifying breath, trying desperately to ignore the eagles doing somersaults in the pit of his stomach. "Go… Out with… Me?"

"Is this real?" The way her nose crinkles doesn't do anything to calm the flutter in Steve's gut. "Or has Natasha's devil vodka put me in a coma where I have amazing dreams?"

"That's a yes!" Clint informs him from some hidden alcove far off. Neither had noticed him leave.

DJ looks like she's trying _really_ hard to process her surroundings. "Wow… My subconscious sounds like Clint."

"That is Clint." Steve doesn't bother to conceal his amusement. DJ doesn't have enough wits about her to be offended.

"Oh my God, did he turn invisible?" She lets her weight rest against Steve as she wraps her arms around his neck. "I met someone who could do that once."

Steve effortlessly scoops DJ up in his arms. "No, he just- Never mind. I think it's time for another nap."

DJ drifts in and out of consciousness as Steve carries her up the stairs and into the room that Tony set up for her. She looks so small when he lightly places her in the center of her gigantic bed, but when he turns to leave her fingers catch the hem of his shirt. "Stay."


	6. Bad

This is the second time that Steve's watched her thick lashes slowly flutter open. Her hazel eyes catch the sun that's beaming in through her window and turn a simmering shade of gold. She licks her dry lips and removes her arms from where they snuck around Steve's waist last night- warm, and welcoming, and wonderful. It's more than a fleeting thought that Steve wouldn't mind doing this many more times. Maybe forever.

"I only have a vague recollection of last night," The sultriness in her voice is increased tenfold first thing in the morning. "But we're not naked, which- while slightly disappointing- is a good sign."

Steve smiles and pulls the covers up over them to ward off the early morning chill. "You told me that I was the most comfortable thing you had ever used as a pillow, and you weren't willing to give me up so easily."

"That sounds embarrassing enough to be something I said."

"Don't be embarrassed." Steve was so close that the timbre of his voice rumbled through her chest. "It was cute."

DJ rolled over onto her back with a groan. "Cute? No. Not cute. I'm mind-bogglingly sexy."

"Yeah, that too."

"Oh my God," she gave a theatrical gasp. "Is Captain America allowed to say things like that?"

Steve just shrugged, a shy little flush tinting his cheeks. "I didn't _say_ anything. I just agreed."

"And yesterday I would've said you couldn't flirt if your life depended on it." Steve never stopped catching her off guard. It was fantastic.

"Yeah, well…" Steve reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. "It gets a lot easier when I know a dame's interested. I'd like to take you out tonight, by the way, if it's not too soon. I know it's not very polite to schedule things last minute, but peaceful periods aren't very-"

"Wait, what? Take me out?"

The doubt came flooding back full force in the form of the crinkle between his eyebrows. "Yeah, you know… Last night? When I asked you out? You sort of said yes?"

"Fuck! I mean… I mean holy fucking shit!"

So DJ was entering full on panic mode. There were so many alarms going off in her brain that she couldn't keep up. How, even in her alcohol-addled state, did agreeing to a _date_ seem like a good idea? It wasn't a matter of desire, because oh did she _desire_. It was a matter of a million and one things standing in the way of that desire. But Steve- beautiful, perfect Steve- was lying next to her with messy bed hair and impossibly blue eyes and lips that begged to be kissed and it hurt to even think about saying no.

"If you don't w-"

"_Shh_!" She snapped covering his mouth with her palm. "I'm thinking."

Can she do this? She totally can't do this. Wait, no, yes. She can. She's dated a little since the whole Max thing. Granted those guys weren't Captain America. Oh God, what if she ruins Captain America? Is it even possible to ruin a super soldier? Probably not. Maybe they'd even balance each other out. Maybe he'd be less _I help old ladies across the street for fun_ and she'd be less… _Bad_.

"Okay. Alright. Yes. I accept. I'll go out with you."

"Well gee, don't feel like you have to." Was Captain America just _sarcastic_? Did they even have sarcasm in the 1940s?

DJ grinned and had to resist the urge to throw herself on top of him. "Oh, I have to. I definitely have to. I would throw myself off a building if I ever turned down the perfection that is you."

"You're very…" Steve struggled for a word that wouldn't get him dumped before they even began. "Different."

"You have _no_ idea."

* * *

Steve shifted his weight nervously, wiping his sweaty palms on his slacks. It was three minutes past seven, and while she was only _barely_ late it didn't mean that she hadn't changed her mind. He wouldn't exactly hold it against her, but it would certainly make things awkward if he was going to be… **supervising** her stay at Avengers tower. And okay, it would probably sting a whole hell of a lot, too.

The clack of heels echoed down the hall and Steve's heart leapt up in his throat. DJ turned the corner and his heart fell through to his stomach and stopped beating. She was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking. Her hair was pulled back so that only a few wisps framed her face, the rest cascading elegantly down her back. A shade of ruby red made her full lips even more distracting, and matched her dress perfectly.

Her dress was… Wow. It was red lace with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. The flared skirt brushed an inch above the knee and showed off a fantastic pair of legs. The heels certainly didn't take away from the look, even if they looked impossible to walk in.

There was a brief, guilty moment when Steve's mind conjured the image of another woman in a red dress.

"Someone laid this out on my bed," she told him bashfully, running a hand over the skirt. "I think it was a hint. Sorry if I look ridiculous."

Steve was going to have to thank whoever had picked that out. "You look _amazing_."

"Thank you. You're pretty devastatingly handsome, yourself." DJ takes a few awkward strides forward. "Sorry for the lateness. I know it's sad that I can't manage to be on time when I'm just down the hall, but dresses are sort of hard to get in without any help, and there was a suspicious lack of people."

Steve gave a lighthearted laugh as the tension started to ease away. "That one was my doing. Someone must have told Fury what was going on, because he called me and threatened to shoot us both if we left the premises. So I figured, as long as we had some privacy, it wouldn't be so bad to have our first date here."

_First date_. DJ liked that sound of that. Very promising. "Not bad at all," she beamed. "What did you have to bribe everyone with to get them to leave?"

"They said they were just glad to help me out."

DJ shot him a skeptical look. "I call bullshit. Tony's probably going to livestream the entire night for blackmail material."

"I can't believe I didn't think of that." Steve actually looks mildly alarmed. It's hilarious.

"Well then, we'll just have to make sure that there's nothing embarrassing for him to see." She loops her arm through his and bats her lashes coquettishly. "Show me what you've got. Woo me."

Steve leads her through to the dining room, stopping anxiously in the doorway. The lights are dimmed low, the room mostly illuminated by the flicker of a few candles placed on the table. Two plates were set close together, loaded with a generous pile of steaming spaghetti. A bottle of wine gleamed in the low lighting, and it almost distracted DJ from the bouquet of red roses resting on the table.

"I know it's not the most impressive dinner, but it's all that I know how to-"

"You got me flowers?" Her voice was more choked up than she had hoped it would be. She gently picked up the bundle and caressed a petal. "And not daisies, either. Thank fucking God for that."

A little thrown off by her unexpected reaction, all Steve could do was awkwardly stuff his hands in his pockets and say, "Uh, yeah. You seemed like the kind of girl that might like roses."

"No one's ever given me roses before." She hugs the flowers loosely against her chest, and gives Steve a look that's almost terrified. "Thank you, Steve. All this… It's really the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

A pebble of sadness settles into Steve's chest. He can only think _why_? But he doesn't know her story. Not really. Not at all. And even if he did, he knows better than anyone that life is hardly fair.

DJ clears her throat uncomfortably and quickly takes a seat. "Sorry for that uncharacteristic display of sappiness. I promise to pack the tears and swooning away for another day."

"You're apologizing a lot tonight," Steve points out softly as he takes the chair next to hers. "You don't need to."

"Nervous habit," she explains meekly, fidgeting around for a while before she decides the best course of action would be to actually start eating. "Very tasty."

Steve laughed, twirling some of the pasta around the fork. "Thank you, I worked very hard at boiling the water."

"If I didn't know you, I'd be hard-pressed to believe that Captain America was so self-deprecating. In the pictures and film reels you always look so… Not arrogant. Just confident, I guess. I sort of idolized you growing up, you know?"

He looked nothing but humbled. "I hear that a lot nowadays. It's hard to get used to. In my head I'm still that stupid, puny kid that jumped into fights with guys twice his size."

"You weren't my hero because you had a chemically induced growth spurt. You were my hero because you did what was right no matter what the cost was for you." DJ shifted her chair closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know how you didn't have a heart-broken wife to leave behind. The women must've adored you."

Steve huffs an uncomfortable little laugh. "No, no wife."

"But there was someone?"

"Sort of." His eyes meet hers and the pain in them hits her like a speeding train. "Her name was Peggy. We never actually… I mean, we had a date, but… I missed it. That's when my plane went down."

DJ was torn between hating this woman and feeling really, really bad. "I can't even begin to imagine… I'm sorry. I know how hard it is starting over, but for you it has to be a million times worse. But you've got friends here, at least. A make-shift family. And I'd like to help in any way I can."

"Tell me about yourself," Steve says, and the quickness with which he says it makes her jerk in surprise.

"What?"

He slides her hand off her shoulder and holds it in his, giving her an eerily serious look. "I barely know anything about you, besides the fact that your old boyfriend is a jerk and you have friends that know how to make someone disappear off the face of the earth. I'm not asking for all your secrets. Not yet. But tell me something. _Anything_."

"I miss my family," she blurts out before she can stop it. Opening that well of emotions is a _bad_ idea. "My mother is the toughest woman I know. She's a lawyer, and I'm pretty sure she's the one responsible for making me such a bitch. My father, he's a surgeon, and I always used to think he reminded me so much of you because more than anything all he ever wanted was to help people. My parents barely ever saw each other 'cause they were so busy, but they loved each other so much that you could _feel_ it if you were in the same room. And my sister, she's younger than I am, she wants to be a lawyer like mom, and she's just so smart! She picks things up so fast, and then she tries to talk to me and I can't even keep up…"

"And what do you want to be?"

DJ sighs and pulls away to pour herself a hefty glass of wine, downing it in one go. "I don't want to be anything anymore, besides incognito. But before all this bullshit came into my life, I wanted… It's silly, don't laugh. It's certainly nothing like a lady of the law or a doctor. I wanted to be on Broadway. It's terribly typical, but there you have it."

"You have the big personality for it. I'm sure you'd be great." Steve gives her a crooked grin and pours her another glass when she looks like she desperately needs it.

"Awfully brave of you to offer me wine after you saw how plastered I got last night." She takes the glass anyway though, downing it just as quickly.

Steve watches her with obvious concern. "I thought maybe this time I'd be able to keep your mind off of whatever made you want to lose yourself."

"You're really something else," she says in something akin to awe. Without really thinking about it her hand slips down to the inside of Steve's thigh- nearer to his knee than anything- which makes him all but convulse with shock. "Sorry," she laughs lightly. "I guess I forgot to mention that wine tends to make me a little frisky."

"The way your legs look in that dress has the same effect on me."

DJ makes a sound of pure delight and throws her arms around Steve, landing herself in his lap. "Listen to you! You're starting to sound like Tony."

"If it were Tony, I don't think he'd be talking about your _legs_." Steve's having trouble not feeling uncomfortable- the good sort of uncomfortable, the kind that makes his brain go _is this allowed, now?_- with her on his lap. There's extra discomfort with a certain part of her anatomy very close to eye level, so he makes a point of staring at her face. But that only leads to his gaze trailing constantly back to her lips.

She smirks in response to the war in his eyes- the war between want and his sense of propriety. As she leans forward Steve braces himself for the contact, but her lips bypass his and rest at the shell of his ear so she can whisper. "If you want a kiss Shy Boy, you're gonna have to take it from me."

So he does.

Their mouths clash together with more force than she would've expected from Steve, and while it's clumsy, she's certainly not complaining. She moves so that she's facing him with a leg on either side of his lap. Her hands tangle in his hair as she nips at his pink bottom lip, and his arms hang awkwardly at his sides.

DJ pulls back for a second, grabbing his hands roughly. "You know how I said women were different now? Well you can also get away with a _lot_ more." And with that she repositions his hands on her ass and gets back to that glorious mouth of his.

Steve meets her tongue with his and tightens his grip. He may be old-fashioned, but he's not stupid.

She relishes in the way his large, strong hands touch her like she's something new and precious. He can't hold back a moan at the way her legs clench around his hips as she rocks into him.

But then Thor is crashing through the window and the moment is basically ruined. The two of them stumble apart and to their feet dazedly, Steve's face smeared with traces of bright red lipstick. The demi-god is standing there in all his gigantic glory with an outraged expression and a mangled robot raised in one hand.

"Jane has been attacked!" He bellows, and DJ swears the whole building rattles.

It's like a bucket of ice-water is thrown over Steve with the way he immediately snaps to attention. "Is she hurt?"

"I was there when the creature attacked. Of course she is not harmed."

Steve looks utterly confused, stepping forward to take a closer look. "There was only one?"

"I hold the only offender. I have brought him for Stark to examine."

Which, of course, is when the robot unfurls and springs to life.

It surprises everyone, which is probably why it sends Thor flying back out the window, and then Steve hurtling towards the wall. There's a blast of energy that hits DJ square in the chest, but it knocks the wind out of her more than it stings. She curses under her breath and peels herself off the floor, disheveled and pissed off.

"You've got to be fucking _kidding_ me." She bites out through clenched teeth. "I can't have one nice thing without any of this fucking bullshit? Is there a sign on my forehead that says 'please direct all inconvenient bullshit this way?'"

The robot is not amused. A three-pronged claw reaches out with a glow of light, but before another blast can go off Thor is tackling it. And then Steve is there with his shield and there's a whole lot of clanking and shouting.

"We need to get this thing out of here!" Steve orders as he just barely dodges a blast of flames. "It's going to explode!"

Thor swings Mjölnir and the robot spins out of the way, making him fumble for balance. He's knocked off his feet by an energy blast and he dents the floor upon impact.

A second claw extends towards DJ and this one sends a heavy jolt of electricity. And yeah, this one is definitely more sting. She doesn't fall, but staggers and clutches her head as her vision swims. "Cute. You like to play rough. I get it. But I don't wa-" It zaps her again, and now it's got to be doing this for the sake of being an asshole. DJ kicks off her shoes and glares. "I swear to God. _One_ more time and I'll-"

Steve's there in front of her blocking the next strike. The bolts bounce right off his shield, but as they hit the robot it only seems to increase its power. With a snarl Steve stops trying to deflect and hurls the shield at the bot's supposed head-region. The bastard catches it.

The shield flies back at Steve with alarming speed, and before he can duck it cracks against the side of his head. He crumples to the ground as a thick line of blood trails down his cheek. Thor is moving towards the bot, but the bot is faster in moving towards Steve.

With an ear-piercing shriek the robot's claws begin to spin and sharpen, but DJ is there in an instant, shielding her favorite super soldier. Steve weakly cries out for her to move, but she doesn't listen. She thrusts her hand out and the robot freezes on the spot. And then it slowly disintegrates into a pile of dust.


	7. Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

This time it's Fury's office. And the handcuffs are significantly tighter.

"Talk to me," Fury says in a calm tone of voice that is more alarming than anything.

"Well when you put it _that_ way," DJ rolls her eyes. "Seriously though, I think you'll find that I'll be just as willing to talk whether I'm in handcuffs or not. And all these guns pointed at my face? Unnecessary."

Fury smiles and, okay, DJ was wrong. _This_ is more alarming. "They make me feel better."

"How petty." She sits as indignantly as the chair will allow and sticks her nose up at him. "I want to talk to Steve."

"And I want weird shit to stop happening right under my nose." He leans forward and the agitation has settled back onto his features. Much better. "You might have half my team wrapped around your finger, but I see right through your bullshit. What are you up to, Ms. Ryder?"

DJ propped her bare feet up on his desk, earning herself a scowl. "I'd just like to point out that it's _your_ fault that I'm hanging around your precious team, and if it were up to me I'd be totally forgotten by now and you'd have to find someone else to blame for your inadequacy. "

"I think you'll find I'm very adequate."

"Are you flirting with me?" She grinned tipping back in her chair. "You know, never really crossed my mind before, but you're definitely my type. I tend to go for aggressive guys."

Fury bats her feet off the desk, sending her chair jostling forward. "I don't like games."

"I bet you were a _real_ drag on the playground."

"I'm about five seconds away from putting a bullet between your eyes and cutting my losses." Yep, there's his gun. "If you think you know how to disappear, you have no idea just how very _gone_ I can make you. I have worked _very_ hard to keep this world safe, you can damn well believe I won't let someone like you stand in the way of that."

The gun flew out of Fury's hand and clunked against the wall. "Sorry! Sorry! I just get freaked out, ya know? And stuff starts flying around the room." She holds her hands up defensively, and the other agents in the room look around for the handcuffs in confusion, eyes landing on a small pile of dust. "Uh, that was an accident, too."

Fury sends a disturbed look to one of the agents standing nervously by the door. "Send Rogers in."

As soon as the door was open a crack Steve was muscling his way in, and the other six were scrabbling in behind him. "Daisy!" His hands brushed over her cheeks, neck, and shoulders, as if surveying her for injuries. "Are you alright? No one hurt you, did they?"

"Captain, we do not embrace prisoners here." Fury's voice held an exasperated edge, as if he were dealing with Tony instead. "And wipe that God damn lipstick off your face! Look like a professional."

The rebuke might have stung Steve like a heavy-handed slap had he not been so angry. He swiped at his mouth- really doing nothing more than smudging the red stains- and laced his fingers through DJ's. "Why is she a prisoner? She saved my life, Sir, I don't see how that's punishable."

"As grateful as I am for Ms. Ryder's interference, she's been keeping things from us." Yeah, he's a lot more congenial when his prized super soldier is pissed off, isn't he? "How do I know that information isn't directly responsible for the recent attacks?"

"So I kept one little thing from you guys, big deal! But it has nothing to do with whatever's happening." The Captain moves his hand to her shoulder, silently advising her to stop, but she turns to him with wide, desperate eyes and continues. "I swear, Steve! I only kept that from you because it's a part of me that I'm not very proud of. I don't use it, not really, only when I can't control it or when I really need to!"

Fury's head did a small jerk and the agents along the edges of the room inched closer. "I'm willing to work with you here. I want an explanation of these powers, and we'll decide on the necessary actions from there."

"What actions are we considering?" Steve asked with a great deal of skepticism.

"Indefinite maximum security containment or provisional employment."

Steve's entire body tensed and his face held a cool demeanor of disbelief. "And what if she doesn't want that?"

"And what if she could speak for herself?" The attention of the room settled back on her, but she only paid attention to the hurt on Steve's face. "I appreciate the sentiment, really, you're a sweetheart, but it's my fate on the line here. I ought to be the one to do the negotiating."

DJ turns to Fury with a steely resolve. "I agree with Steve. Just because I'm a freak of nature doesn't mean you can treat me like an animal. And I don't like you. I think you use your noble cause to manipulate people, but whatever. I like the world not ending, kudos to you for making that happen. But maybe you should learn a thing or two from Steve and attempt some courtesy. _Maybe_ I would have gladly told you about my little quirk if you asked nicely."

The only sound in the room for a full thirty seconds was the brief snort of an agent trying to stifle a laugh. He'd probably be severely berated later. Possibly demoted. DJ's pretty sure Fury's eye twitched, but he clenched his fists and manned-up. "Will you… _Please_… Explain what you can do?"

"Well since you were so polite…" This time there were a handful of snickers from those unconcerned about Fury's fury- namely Tony, Clint, and Natasha. "I expect a man like you has heard a thing or two about mutants. I happen to be one of 'em. I inherited the X-gene from my father. He could reanimate dead tissue- heal things. I can… I manipulate atoms."

Steve's hand slipped from DJ's shoulder.

"I can make things move or stop or fly across the room. Or I can break them apart. If the need should arise I can atomize myself and get all intangible to go through shit, but I don't like doing that. It feels weird."

"Fascinating," Bruce breathed, pushing past some agents to get a closer look at her. "Could you show us?"

DJ narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms stubbornly. "_No_. It's exhausting. And it gives me a headache. How would you like it if someone asked you to turn into a giant green grumpy gorilla?"

"Is that why you disappeared?" Steve intervenes, looking at her like she's a science fair project instead of someone he made out with an hour ago. "This… _Mutation_ manifested?"

"Er, no. Well, sort of, but not so much. I always knew there was a possibility something like this could happen- my parents explained it to me pretty early on. I was nineteen when it first happened. I was with Max and he… He hit me, but he didn't. He went right through me. He was too drunk to really notice, and I didn't think much of it. It seemed harmless."

The haunted, pallid look on her face tells them it was anything but. "Little things started floating once in a while, it was sort of cool . But, uh, when I got scared furniture would start shifting and shaking like I was in Poltergeist or something. When my boyfriend's stuff started dissolving I thought I should probably get some help."

"I went and saw this genius guy. Reed Richards. He was working on something to take powers away, I thought he could help me. Well, long story short I walked away with even less control. It's like something snapped in me and I was being consumed by my own power. I was an emotional mess, my boyfriend was pissed 'cause I was sneaking around, and one night he came after me with a knife and I brought half a building down on his head."

DJ shivered, and when the comforting arm that wrapped around her belonged to Bruce she wanted so badly not to hate Steve. "Max was in a coma and I ran away upstate. I met this guy in a bar, Logan, he said he knew someone who might be able to help. So I met Charles Xavier, and while he dug around in my brain and tried some psychic therapy shit, Logan tried to teach me how to defend myself with my fists instead of my mutation. When that didn't work I told them that I would rather disappear than hurt anyone else. So they made it happen. And ever since then I've been floating around like a ghost, heavily self-medicating so that I'm never strong enough to nearly kill someone again."

Even Fury looks mildly compassionate. "I've seen people with lesser powers let it get the best of them. The fact that you fought against that pull makes me want to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Then that settles it!" Tony exclaims slapping his hands together far too cheerfully in this context. "Our previous arrangement stands. She's coming back with us."

Pepper's fingers dig into his arm. "Tony! You barely know her! You've been screwed over by people who you've trusted for _years_. I'm not trying to be insensitive, but if she's this dangerous, how smart is it to take the chance?"

"It's very smart. I'm a genius. I know what I'm doing."

"I agree with your wise lover," Thor rumbles. "If this sorceress is the cause of my Jane's danger then I am not comfortable being in quarters with her."

Steve finally gets bristled enough to say something again. "She's _not_. Didn't you hear her? She's just trying to do the right thing. She didn't have to sit around in those handcuffs with Ms. Hill, or put up with all your interrogations- _regardless_ of how obstinate she was. And if she wanted to harm us she wouldn't have stopped that robot from slicing me open!"

"She's no more dangerous than I am," Bruce offered. "We're both essentially volatile when our emotions get in the way. You're not questioning my liability, why should we question hers? As long as she manages-"

"And what if she doesn't manage?" Clint cut in levelly. All business. Calm, composed, and detached. "It's not like we can shoot her with a tranq dart. It'll pass right through her."

"If you give me some time I can develop something-"

"No, no, no! We're still treating her like she's a wild dog!"

"Steve, I like you, I do. And most of the time you're less impulsive than Tony, which is a relief, but right now I don't think you're thinking clearly!"

"Indeed! I do not judge this sorceress for her faults, I myself have many, but we must do what is necessary for the good of all."

DJ dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, giving a low groan as a faint quiver ran through the floor. She couldn't take this arguing- this debating back and forth over her like she was a piece of property. She needed to get out. Maybe drop through the floor before she ended up tearing it apart.

But then Natasha is there with a bruising grip on her shoulder and a consoling whisper in her ear. "Deep breaths. Chin up. Don't expose your weaknesses." Her hand drops and she addresses the room. "She'll be coming back with us. As a _guest_. She'll be allowed to come and go as she pleases, and the next person who tries to put a pair of handcuffs on her is going to lose a hand."

"Not your call to make, Romanoff." Fury waves his hands and the agents on standby fall back. "There are things that need to be looked in to. If she's unstable-"

"Just how many of us do you think _are_ stable?" Her voice is ice cold and firm, like the feel of a blade against the throat. "Stark? He's unreliable at best, but he's an asset. Banner? He's a time-bomb and he's our best defense. Clint had a demi-god digging around in his brain. Thor's not even human and Steve's an antique. And I think you know me well enough to figure out I'm not the most down-to-earth woman out there. You're looking at a roomful of second chances. If Xavier felt he could trust her enough to let her walk out the door, why shouldn't we?"

Fury sinks back into his chair, mouth thinning out into a grim line. "Fine. But I'll be on the phone with Xavier's people. If something doesn't add up you come back here and answer to me. Got that, Ryder? Now everyone get the fuck out. Except for you, Agent Romanoff."

"Sir?"

He waits until the door is shut behind the very last person before beginning. "Why?"

"Solidarity."

"Bullshit." Fury gestures for her to sit, but she declines with an unchanging impassivity on her face. "You follow orders. Hard ones that no one else can stomach. So tell me why you've decided to push back now."

"More than anything, she's scared. She had a rough situation thrown at her, and out of self-defense she instinctively took measures to protect herself. She's carrying around that guilt and punishing herself for something that's not her fault. We shouldn't have to punish her for that, too. That's just oppression."

He considers this for a second and seems to accept it, nodding. "Alright. I just needed to be sure atoms were the only thing being manipulated here. I've never seen so many competent adults turn into complete idiots over one woman."

"I'm pretty sure she's just likable," she smirks. "At least when she's not being harassed. Anything else?"

"Yes. Someone tried to divide the Avengers before, we don't need that happening again. Smooth things over with Thor and Barton. There are people I have to report to if this goes to shit. I don't want to have to do that."

* * *

Steve stops DJ just outside the door, pulling her away from the crowd of people flooding out. "Are you alright?"

_Oh, __**now**__ you care._ She bites back the words and gently tugs out of his grasp. "Sure."

"I know that look," he says accusingly. "I'm very familiar with that look. I've said something wrong. What is it? Please, just tell me. I was never good at figuring it out. Peggy actually shot at me, once."

DJ held back a growl and sharpened her glare. "I said I was fine." _But mentioning __**her**__ definitely isn't helping. I bet she was nice and unmutated._

"Yeah, I heard you, but you're obviously not." He crowds her against the wall so she can't run away. "Just talk to me. You don't have to keep that all inside anymore."

"Don't I?" She scoffs, pushing roughly at Steve's chest, but he doesn't move an inch. "The way you looked at me… _God!_ The way you pulled away from me? It was like you couldn't even stand to be in the same room with me after you found out."

Steve looked at her like the mere accusation was offensive. "How can you say that? I was fighting for you harder than anyone. I looked like an idiot mouthing off to Fury with your lipstick all over my face. Agents will be laughing behind my back for weeks."

"Well God forbid you sacrifice your pride."

"That's not what I'm saying!" He actually looks incredibly upset, and she almost feels bad for the guy. "My point is that I don't _care_. I don't care that everyone thinks I'm a sucker, and I don't care that you've got this X-gene thing. I care about you."

That one little sentence made her heart flutter. She bites her lip to hold back a grin. "You still think I'm swell?"

Steve rolls his eyes and rests a hand against her neck, rubbing his thumb in circles over her jaw. "Yeah I do, ya big- uh…"

"You can call me a jerk, Steve. It's all right," she laughs. "I've been called worse. In fact, if you weren't there I'm pretty sure Fury would have thrown a few of those choice words my way."

He smiled softly and craned his neck to rest his forehead against hers. "He's just worried. You shouldn't antagonize him so much."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? I like to live life on the edge."

His lips press against hers chaste and sweet and only fractionally awkward. "And I like you living."

DJ smiles so wide that her cheeks hurt. "I had a very nice time on our date."

"We were attacked by a robot."

"You tried to protect me." She runs a hand up his chest, mapping out the muscles there. "It was very romantic."

Steve snorts not at all unattractively and winds his arms tightly- almost possessively- around her waist. "Maybe it would have been if you hadn't ended up doing the saving in the end. I guess we're even now."

"Oh, Honey. That night… You didn't save _me._ You saved Max."

* * *

I just threw a ton of Marvel characters at you in this one, bahahahah. Comments, suggestions, praise? I'm like a leech, I feed off your words XD


	8. Normalcy

Days start to pass slowly as people observe her like an insect under a microscope. Or like a surly tiger at the zoo. Everyone's far too expectant. It's a lot of pressure.

DJ doesn't really know how to exist like a normal person. She's forgotten. But it seems like she should go out and do something now that she's a free woman. Unfortunately, even before her brief stint as a captive she never went out all that much. Socialization wasn't very conducive for leaving everything she knew and loved behind.

But now she knew new things, and liked new people an awful lot. Maybe someday that would turn into love, if they'd have her.

It's no longer a matter of allowing herself to love. She doesn't know when that happened, but it did. It's not as scary as she thought, and it's also not surprising. DJ couldn't resist the ever-present pull to _belong_ if her life depended on it.

Then again, it's not her life that depends on it.

She's selfish now. It's not the worst of her flaws.

It's Steve that watches her the most, and not in the way she'd like him too. There's always a crinkle of worry between his brows and she just wants to shout that she's obviously not fragile. She knows Steve doesn't mean to upset her so she keeps her mouth shut. Every word she doesn't say makes her withdraw into herself.

Sometimes it's hard for her to get out of bed. She'll lay there and laugh at the fact that she was more easy-going when she was a hostage. It's harder now because these people know her secret and they're all waiting with bated breath to watch her let them down.

It's Steve that bursts into her room during her gradual descent into self-hatred. He flicks on the lights and looks nervous, pained, and hopeful all at once. He tosses a pill bottle none too gently into her lap. "Tony pulled some string and got his hands on some."

Xanax.

"You tiptoe around everyone like you can't trust yourself, so here you go." His voice holds a sharpness like she's never heard from him before, and she understands why Tony can't stand him sometimes. He's so _good_ that disappointing him seems like the lowest low. "Here's your safety net. But I don't think you need it."

DJ stares down at the bottle to avoid meeting Steve's eyes. "That's easy for you to say."

"Yes." He replies simply. "It is."

"As much as I appreciate your blind faith in me, I think you're an idiot."

Steve smiles at her in a way that makes the lights in the room unnecessary. "Do you know how often I used to hear that? I'm sort of famous from never running away from a fight, especially when it's for a good cause. I don't lose anymore."

Why would she want a normal life when she could have this?

* * *

Redefining normalcy starts that afternoon when the bottle is reduced to a pile of dust.

DJ strolls into the living room with an extra bounce in her step and passes by Steve with only a brush of their lips. She stops in front of Bruce who's a little cautious in the face of her wolfish grin. He follows her into the kitchen when she demands it, more out of curiosity than anything. Steve watches them from over the back of the couch as they poke and prod at a sad looking violet while they have an easy conversation.

If Steve feels a niggling sense of jealousy when they start spending time together brewing weird tasting teas and sitting in a dark room doing measured breathing, then it only lasts as long as it takes for Bruce to coax DJ into yoga.

He stands in the doorway of the gym a little breathless. He ignores Bruce attempting to balance and focuses all his attention on DJ resting her weight on her shoulders and elbows, ankles up by her ears.

Tony slithers up beside him and slaps him on the back. "Yoga pants are great, aren't they?" He stares a little too long and snaps his eyes away when Steve catches him. "Good for you. She's very limber."

* * *

Sometimes late at night when neither she nor Steve can sleep they find each other in one of Tony's private media rooms. They make a point of trading histories. They watch old movies that Steve loves and DJ smiles warmly through. They watch movies from the last seventy years that DJ is crazy about and Steve is often horrified by.

One night he shows her an old reel of him prancing around in his old costume surrounded by USO girls and she laughs until her sides hurt and she hiccups. She settles down by the computer and clicks and clacks for a few minutes until Steve is staring at an old yearbook photo of her in her school uniform, surrounded by a dozen other identical girls brandishing signs about the environment and the humane treatment of God's creatures.

"Everyone has a moment in their life no one should ever witness."

* * *

Tony is a jerk but Steve puts up with that because there's an endearing glint in DJ's eyes when they babble back and forth with sarcasm and obscure pop culture references. And sometimes when Tony makes a comment that intentionally stings Steve to the core he sees her swing her small fist against Tony's shoulder and the insults that burn start to slowly fade away.

They seem to be quick and close friends, but Steve doesn't understand what a middle-aged genius billionaire playboy philanthropist and a twenty-three year old mutant have to talk about.

Food. They talk about food a lot. Their favorite places to get it and the best they've ever had.

Steve has the sneaking suspicion that they talk about sex much in the same way. It's the way that certain conversations stop when he walks into the room. The way Tony leers and wiggles his eyebrows and she buries her face in her hands like she'd like to atomize and sink through the floor.

But it's food that gets DJ out of the tower for the first time. He drags her to some hole in the wall place that he swears has a cheeseburger delicious enough to make her cry.

Because it's Tony Stark it doesn't take long for pictures to show up in magazines. The quality is poor and blurry but Steve could map out her features if he was blind. She's certainly not crying. She's laughing. A lot. And they're touching and it's hard for him to remember that that's just something she _does_.

The ugly twist in his gut soothes when he watches her tack an article to the fridge. One line is highlighted in obnoxious neon yellow. _Isn't she a little young for him?_

* * *

DJ's just finished regaling Steve with the story of an incredibly awkward slow dance in the seventh grade when Steve tells her that he doesn't know how to dance. She's properly appalled and he's properly embarrassed.

"I'll teach you then!" She's already tugging him into the center of the room, pushing plush couches out of the way with an effortless jerk of her head. "If you've got the right partner it's really not all that hard to learn."

Steve hesitantly places a hand on the small of her back, grasping one of hers with the other. His mind flickers from past and present and he's not sure who he's betraying at the moment. "There's not any music."

"We don't need any," she tells him like he's ridiculous for even thinking so. "Not really. We can make our own rhythm. Just move like we feel."

They sway achingly slow, the only sound in the room their own breathing. He doesn't know if he's imagining it or not, but hers is a little uneven. And they're pressed so close that he can feel her heart fluttering like a hummingbird against his chest.

If he manages to mention Peggy once or twice (Four. DJ counted.) then she doesn't hold it against him. She just smiles tightly and silences him with sad little kisses that don't hold a fraction of the spark that that very first one did.

Her hand tightens around his and her heart doesn't calm.

* * *

Clint likes to push DJ's limits. He likes popping out of his hiding spots and nearly giving her a heart attack. He likes sending a shower of rubber darts at her body every time she walks into a room. She's starting to develop a nervous tick.

She comes out of her bathroom one day- hair damp, body wrapped in a towel- and is greeted by the jarring _thunk_ of a dart bouncing off her forehead. She nearly drops her towel in surprise. He drops to the ground and she makes an inhuman sound of distress. Hurling his own darts at him she swears that he's going to be _very_ sorry.

Despite his team's wide range of expertise, Natasha was always the only one who managed to sneak up on him. The woman was like a cat- stealthy, cunning, and chronically unimpressed. But she couldn't go through walls.

DJ can go through walls. And she does. Quite often lately. When Clint makes his own way out of the shower (She only did that _once_, because she was traumatized after learning that he doesn't usually stroll around his room in a towel.), when Clint gets around to picking up a woman (Also only once, because he doesn't care if she watches or not.), when Clint just wants to be alone because Natasha kicked his ass, or he's hung over, or he runs out of pain medication because he choked them down after being thrown through a mall by the villain of the week. She does this more than once, because it seems to cause him the most emotional turmoil.

Not that Clint has many more emotions than Natasha. There's just the grumpy, cocky, and I'm-a-sixteen-year-old-boy settings.

A dart lands in DJ's lap one afternoon with a note attached. _Tag, you're it_.

Their last game lasted six days.

* * *

They're curled up outside on the balcony watching the city glitter. There's a sharp chill to the air as December slowly approaches, but Steve is always warm and used to much colder, while DJ is bundled up in Steve's brown leather jacket.

DJ rests her head on Steve's shoulder and a yawn turns into a purr as his fingers massage against her scalp. "Maybe you and Clint should lay off for a while. It's not good to always be so tired."

"We take it a little far sometimes," she concedes easily. "But it's nice to feel like… Doing what I do is okay. He was testing me at first. I know that. But I think I passed."

"You're the only one who's surprised."

She twists so that she's looking up at him with her head in his lap. "Liar. But you're the only one who matters."

Steve smiles and looks off somewhere far away, but DJ doesn't think he's seeing the scenery. When he speaks low and rough and utters a complete non sequitur her suspicions are confirmed. "If you could be anywhere right now, where would you want to be?"

"I don't know." She's not going to ask him the same question. Her heart couldn't take it. "Wherever I'm wanted, I guess."

"With your family? Your parents?"

She lets her eyes fall on the cityscape. "No. I couldn't. Too much has changed. And they're not something I'm willing to put in danger."

"Back with Max?"

"Of course not." The night around them isn't silent, but the whir of traffic fills in the awkward spaces and gives them courage. "I hate him."

"Then why are you always so worried about what you could do to him? And why feel guilty?"

DJ wants to get defensive. Wants to yell and tell him that he doesn't have to make up reasons not to be with her if he just doesn't want to. But he's looking at her again in a way that he does sometimes- like he's afraid, which she can never understand- and the angry words die on her tongue. "Because I don't care how much he's hurt me, he doesn't deserve to die. I think you understand that better than anyone."

He huffs a humorless laugh. "I didn't say he should _die_. A few bruises wouldn't be uncalled for, though."

"He's had his fair share." There's still something off about Steve's expression, but he's not being forthcoming, so she continues. "And there's a fine line between bruises and dying when it comes to me. It'll happen eventually. It's just a matter of putting it off. Hence, I run."

Steve pulls her back into a sitting position and cups her cheeks in his large hands. His lips fit over hers desperate and scared and unshakably lonely. When he pulls away the look in his eyes could convince her of anything. "You don't have to run from me. You can't hurt me."

* * *

_Okay, so a couple of things to address here. I realized after writing this that the timeline for this chapter was a little shaky, so if anyone's out for clarification it basically spans roughly a month. Also, after I got a load of incredibly sweet and amazing feedback on the last chapter I feel so incredibly terrible that this chapter is essentially filler. But it's important filler? If that makes sense. Foreshadowing and setup and whatnot. But thank you so so much to everyone who follows, favorites, or reviews. You have no idea how much it actually means to me, and it's truly what moves this forward. So don't be shy ;] _


	9. Blast from the Past

Pepper and DJ sit on opposite ends of the couch, eyes fixed intently on the television screen. The woman on the news is talking about the damage inflicted on the city and the panic of the civilian bystanders. Pepper and DJ don't really care how much the city is wrecked, and only marginally care about its citizens right now. They're just hoping to get a glimpse of their heroes in the background.

The disturbance had ended three hours ago and there wasn't even the smallest sign of any of the Avengers. They'd called all of them. At least twice. Tony was actually called eleven times. Steve twenty-four, because DJ wasn't nearly as patient as Pepper. Though one would have to assume Pepper naturally exuded patience in order to handle Tony.

"A debriefing wouldn't take this long." Pepper glared angrily at the TV. "And if any of them were still loitering around the site _surely_ someone would've at least attempted to interview them."

DJ hummed in agreement, foot tapping frantically. "And it's not like Tony is the most subtle person on the planet."

"Yeah, he'd be signing songs of his victory to every reporter who'd listen." She tried to smile but it didn't stick. "And Steve's not a jerk."

"He would've called me back," DJ agrees with a sigh. "So do you want to drive, or should I?"

Pepper stands very calmly and gathers her purse. "Me. I have access to all of Tony's fastest cars."

* * *

"How the _hell_ did you get in here?" Fury bellowed louder than Thor on a bad day. Six pairs of eyes flick up in surprise and land on the two very unhappy women standing with arms crossed.

"I walked through the door," DJ replies with a saccharine smile.

"Bull _shit_. The door to this lab is reinforced with steel and fitted with a retinal scan."

Pepper steps around him, unimpressed. "Nobody said she opened it first."

"I see you've bonded," Tony observes with only the smallest hint of unease. "That's… Potentially dangerous."

Steve makes the mistake of being pleased by the sudden drop in. He all but bounces over in that adorable puppy way he has when he's overly excited. Apparently kicking ass excites him, but that's an avenue to be explored later. He puts his large hands on DJ's hips and spins her while planting a wet kiss on her mouth. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh you know, thought you were all dead. No big deal you _assholes_!" The insult is directed at everyone, but Steve is the only one who gets shoved. Or, more accurately, who DJ **tries** to shove.

He (infuriatingly) gently grabs her hands and looks at her with (infuriatingly) wide, innocent eyes. "Why would you think we were dead?"

"Maybe because as people who purposely throw themselves into the line of fire for a living your girlfriends get a little worried when you don't come back home or answer your phones." Pepper's voice was the exact opposite of DJ's infuriated heat. It was cold and dripping with disappointment.

Tony was relatively certain that either A) he wouldn't be getting laid tonight, or B) he'd be getting amazing angry sex, but in the morning he and Pepper would enter another 'off' period. Or were they not 'on' again? He couldn't keep track. "That has a completely justifiable explanation."

"Justifiable to you, or to a normal human being?"

"Why Pepper, I am truly wounded that you would-"

Natasha cut in generously, "We had to use a relatively powerful electromagnetic pulse to take out the target. A lot of tech got fried."

Amazingly, Pepper seemed to accept that as justifiable. "We heard on the news that it was robots. Were they the same kind from before?"

"Very definitely _not_." Tony gestures to bot on the table. "Much bigger, much stronger, much more human shaped."

"Well fuck me!" Some eyebrows arched at DJ's growl as she slipped through the gaps between people to peer down at the motionless robot. "This is a Servo-Guard."

Thor peeked from over her head, a very serious look on his face. "I am not familiar with such a creature. Or why its presence should inspire you to make such a request. Surely Steven-"

"It's just a saying Thor." Steve's expression looked pained. "But, um, I've never heard of them either."

"They're one of Doctor Doom's." Fury pursed his lips looking like the last thing he wanted to do was behave civilly towards DJ. "Care to explain how you know that?"

She rolled her eyes and hopped up to sit on the table. "Always with the suspicion. Get over yourself. I told you I went to Reed Richards- you know, Mr. Fantastic? Of the Fantastic Four? Those guys kind of have a rocky relationship with Doom. Most superheroes do, really, since he's inherently evil."

"You probably shouldn't sit by that," Bruce suggested, waving his hands at her until she got annoyed enough to move. "It could be playing possum."

"Between all of us, I wouldn't be too worried about just one." Tony's hand came up to his chin, fingers tapping an erratic rhythm. "Doom _is_ one of the very few people I could credit to being able to hack the system. So, bright side: we know who's responsible. Not so bright side: an army of Servo-Guards is probably the least of our worries."

Pepper's eyes widened, probably remembering how terrifying her own experience was. "What do you mean?"

"Compared to some of his other creations, these are relatively harmless." Natasha's eyes flick back and forth over the robot, calculating. "But he's not just some genius who can tinker around in a lab. He gets around, so he's pretty proficient in magic and mind-transference. Not to mention he's a manipulative bastard, so he's got plenty of people under his thumb."

"So, overall… Better or worse than giant space whales?"

"Be serious for once, Bruce," Tony playfully scolds, making Pepper cluck in irritation. "We can assume it's much worse."

Steve stands ramrod straight, already easing back into battle mode. "Well I don't want to wait around to find out. Where can we find him?"

"As a rule, geniuses don't really advertise their base of operations."

"Says the man who plasters his name on every piece of real estate he owns."

"The tower is hardly our base of operations. Besides, it's called pride in ownership. But I guess you wouldn't know anything about that since you're currently mooching off my generosity, Rogers."

"I don't think you know a thing about-"

DJ slides between them before they can start shoving each other around. "Wow, you're both men. It's very impressive. The testosterone in the room is overwhelming, really. But maybe we can try focusing on the matter at hand, hmm?"

"Excellent idea," Fury agrees dryly. "Romanoff, get yourself cleaned up and pay Richards a visit. Any information he has could prove to be helpful. The rest of you… Stay out of my way and try not to kill each other."

* * *

Steve sighs softly in exasperation and rubs small circles into DJ's lower back. The second they'd gotten back to the tower she had latched on to him and refused to let go, which was problematic considering he hadn't changed out of his uniform. "I'm fine. I promise."

"You scared the hell out of me." Her voice is muffled against his chest, and she's still showing no sign of letting go. "And I don't feel any better, because I see these rips in your uniform, and I see these little cuts on your skin, and I know that because of your super healy factor they were a lot deeper a couple hours ago. There's only so deep you can cut before even a superhero dies."

"If I can survive being frozen for seventy years, it's going to take a whole hell of a lot to finish me off."

She raises her face then, eyes filled with more terror than he'd ever seen from her. "And Doom is going to put you through _a whole hell of a lot_. I don't want to lose you."

"It's not like I can quit." He's giving her a very stern, unsettling look. A look that screams **don't push this, because you'll lose**. "And even if I could, I wouldn't. That's not who I am. _This_ is who I am. I fight, and sometimes I get hurt, and sometimes people I care about get hurt, but there's nothing I can do except what's right. And what's right is never going to be easy."

"I know that." And her voice is taking on the exact same tone, which is probably very bad news, because when stubborn meets stubborn someone gets hurt in one way or another. "But there's something _I_ can do."

Steve's lost the trail of the conversation if his confused blinking is anything to go by. "What?"

"I'm going to take Fury up on his offer. The employment offer, not the whole maximum security containment thing. This way I can make sure you don't do any stupid self-sacrificing heroics. And I won't think you're dead when you're busy being SHIELD's butt monkey."

She half-expects him to go on an excited rant about what a wonderful idea this is, because she has powers and she should use them for the greater good. The other half of her doesn't know what to expect at all, but it certainly isn't what she gets.

As she turns to leave, Steve's fingers roughly curl around her wrist- and it's nearly enough to hurt, which is worrying considering Steve is the king of self-control. "_No_. That's- I just won't let you."

"I don't think I was exactly asking for your permission, dear." She places her free hand against his cheek, following the curve of his lower lip with her thumb. "If adding one more person to the Avengers means making everyone is a little bit safer, then isn't that the right thing to do? Because it's not just you I care about, you know. Whether they like it or not, those guys are my family now."

"I have lost too many people-"

"And so have I. But you got the chance to fight for them, while I ran away from them like a coward. I won't do that anymore, not to you. I can take anything anyone throws at me. It'll go right through me."

Steve tugs her forward so she's flat against his chest, arms curling around her waist in an iron grip. "Only if you see it coming. What happens if they catch you off guard? What if someone sneaks up behind you and stabs you in the back?"

"Then I'm an idiot for letting my guard down. It happens to the best of us."

"And what about when you're in a situation where your powers can't help? We've all had to take part in hand-to-hand combat, what've you got to offer?"

DJ scowls and struggles against Steve's hold. "Let's go to the gym and spar right now. I'll show you _exactly_-"

Steve's lips press hotly against hers and his grip lifts her toes of the ground. She feels a little dizzy in a way only Steve can achieve. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. I-"

"Okay." Her mouth finds his again, hungry, wild, and a little desperate. It's not just his kisses that make her dizzy- it's his smile, and the way his arms feel around her, and the look he sometimes gets in his eyes when she walks into the room. It's a dizziness that makes her want to surrender everything she has.

She takes advantage of Steve's firm grasp to bring her legs up to wrap around his waist. He gives a startled but pleased grunt, moving one hand up to tangle in her hair. His lips tear away from hers to trail a path down her neck to where it meets her shoulder. She gives a full-body shiver as his teeth brush her skin, marking.

"Steve," she's more than a little breathless, scrabbling with her hands to find any piece of bared flesh. But of course his uniform- _guh_. It's usually so hot, but now it's just obnoxious and in the way. She slides a hand down to his hips, trying to find where the two pieces meet. "Steve," her fingers dip inside and slide against the burning skin across his hipbone. "I want-"

Her feet are back on the ground before her brain processes the movement. She sways and stares dumbly at Steve who is suddenly all the way across the room. "I should change. And, um, rest. It's been a long day."

DJ's left feeling cold and confused and more than a little frustrated.

* * *

"I don't understand," she groans resting her cheek against the cool surface of the kitchen island. "I mean, I understand that he's Steve, and Steve is all… _Steve_. But we've been together a fair amount of time, and he's sending all these mixed signals."

Tony stares blankly at her over a cup of coffee. "I'm a genius and I still only understood about half of that. Start over?"

"Ugh, okay, so Steve is definitely a sweetheart, but he's also incredibly sexy, even if he doesn't know it. And kissing him is fantastic, really, but I'd like to get a little farther then second base, but every time we start to get somewhere Steve suddenly remembers that he's very busy. And it's not like I'm the only one doing the fondling. He's very enthusiastic about that! And the other day he gave me a backrub! _Everyone_ knows that a backrub means you want sex!"

A mischievous grin splits Tony's lips. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

"_No_. I swear to God, Tony, if you say a word I'll murder you." DJ sighs and looks at him imploringly. "But am I doing something wrong? Because I honestly don't understand."

Thor is suddenly looming over them, a handful of bacon clutched in one fist. "In Asgard, when one's advances are not returned we seek the company of others to inspire a change of heart."

"Yeah, thanks Thor, but in Midgard when your girlfriend sleeps with someone else you usually break up with them, not take them to bed in a fit of jealous passion." She eyes him as he takes a hearty bite out of the bundle of meat. "But you've offered more than the self-proclaimed expert over here. Any more ideas?"

Thor looks contemplative as he chews. "Asgardian men are notoriously red-blooded and fickle, and their wives often worry of losing their interest. Perhaps that is the problem with you and the Captain."

"Oh God," mortification fills every crevice in her chest. "A man from the forties thinks I'm boring. How do these Asgardian wives fix this?"

"It is common for them to indulge their husbands most elaborate fantasies."

Tony snorts, earning a glare from both of them. "I'm pretty sure Rogers' wildest fantasy is carefully removing your modest wedding gown and gently making love to you on your wedding night."

"Don't be an asshole. Seventy years ago or not, he's still a soldier. And soldiers are _very_ good at constructing fantasies. It's basically a necessity so they don't go insane from the lack of vaginas hanging around." She gives Thor a pat on the back. "Thanks pal, I'll think of something."

"_As much as I'd hate to disturb such an important conversation_," JARVIS' vaguely judgmental tone cut through the kitchen. "_There appears to be a rather aggressive male demanding entry to the tower._"

The three of them exchange uneasy looks and start towards the living room. "Did he say what he wanted?"

"_He seems to be requesting the presence of Ms. Ryder, Sir. Between bouts of colorful language he also claims that he was directed this way by Colonel Fury._"

Steve and Bruce are already standing at attention by the elevator, having caught the tail end of JARVIS' warning. "Fury wouldn't change his mind, would he? He wouldn't send someone to take Daisy back to headquarters."

"I don't think so," but something in Bruce's voice isn't entirely certain. "Not unless… Well only if his digging into her past uncovered something undesirable."

Thor moves so that DJ is shielded behind him. "Grant him entry. Surely if he is a threat the four of us can defeat one man."

Tension builds in the silence that surrounds the hum of the elevators steady ascent. Everyone's muscles are clenched and Bruce is backing away in case Hulk decides to drop in. DJ can only think that her whole 'joining the Avengers' thing isn't going to work out so well if everyone thinks they have to protect her all the time.

The doors slide open and DJ's face lights up like Christmas morning. Steve gives her a disapproving look as she darts around Thor and bounds forward. "Logan!"

The stranger gives her a toothy grin that looks like more trouble than one of Tony's. When she reaches him his hands come to rest unsettlingly low on her back as he jerks her against his body and dips her back. His lips crash against hers and Steve's cautious expression melts away to pure devastation.

DJ's speechless, mouth hanging open and flapping for words as Logan pulls away. He narrows his eyes and clamps a hand on the back of her neck, dragging his nose up her collarbone to her jaw with a deep sniff. "You have a boyfriend."

"I… Yes. I do."

Logan sniffs again and his eyes cut to Steve. "He treat you good?"

"I don't think he knows how not to." She stumbles away from him a little dazed. He was always a mind-blowing kisser. She has only a brief moment of guilt at the thought, but it's crushed by her remembering that Steve very obviously doesn't want to sleep with her, and Logan _never_ had that problem. "He's the perfect gentleman."

So that came out a smidge more bitter than she had intended.

Logan strolls over to stand next to Steve, amusement hiding behind his impassivity. DJ can pretty much guess what's going on in his head: _Ha ha, I have been in some very scandalous positions with your girlfriend. I got there first. Tralalalala._ Or something along those lines. But instead he just says, "How'd you like her tattoo?"

"What?" Steve not only looks affronted, but terribly confused.

"Yes, what?" Tony looks absolutely gleeful. "Tattoo? What tattoo? Where? Tell me everything."

And Thor is trying to be helpful, really. "It does not appear that the Captain is familiar with his lady's tattoo. Perhaps it is because it is in a more intimate place, and they have not yet ravished one another."

"Astute," Natasha praises with amusement, and everyone jerks in surprise, because seriously _when did she get here?_ She smirks over at DJ. "Johnny Storm says hi."

"How nice of him," Tony says through a laugh, and DJ would like to fall over dead, like, _now_.

Steve's cheeks are flushed pink, and his shoulders are sagging in a way that is very _not_ Captain America. He's acting as if she's gone out and had sex with these guys just today, when really it's not her fault that she's had a few flings in the past. She went to an all-girls school- she was bound to respond to such sexual repression negatively.

And really, why does he look surprised? It's not like there's anything about her that screams '_Hey! I'm a precious little virgin!_' Maybe that was the ideal way back when, but it's kind of unrealistic nowadays. It's too bad if he was hoping otherwise, but it's not like he- Oh. _Ohhh_.

"You think I'm a whore!" This really isn't the best time to have this conversation, but the realization hits her hard. "_That's_ why you don't want to sleep with me!"

Steve looks like a deer in headlights. "I-"

"I've only been with like four people!" All the furniture shifts an inch to the left. "There was that guy when I was sixteen… Greg something. Then Max, and we were dating for a good three months before I let him come anywhere near my pants. And there was Logan, and okay, that was a little bit of a fast paced affair, but my life was _very_ stressful at that point. And there was that one night with Johnny- okay, _two_ nights with Johnny, but come on, who wouldn't? So I can count on one hand how many- Wait, what qualifies as sex?"

"Maybe you should calm down," Bruce offers as he narrowly dodges the couch that rotates ninety degrees.

"Good plan," Logan agrees catching DJ by the elbow. Steve looks like he wants to protest, but the arm chair looks like it's suspiciously close to flying out the window. "Let's go for a walk."

She lets him haul her off outside without argument, which is worrying in itself. _Everything_ she does is with argument. "Why are you even here in the first place?" She huffs in frustration. "Besides to fuck up my relationship."

Logan grunts and lets her go once they reach the sidewalk. "Xavier got a call about you. Answered all these questions. We didn't know you were planning on popping back up on the grid. We woulda picked you up ourselves if we knew."

"I wasn't exactly planning on it," she replied drolly. "It's one of those things that just happened."

"That uptight guy didn't drag you into it, did he?"

She gives a humorless laugh, leaning up against the side of the building. "Not really. I sort of dragged him into _my_ shit. I should probably do the whole selfless thing and cut him loose, but I'm far too in love with him to- Oh fuck."

"Hmm?"

"I just said I was in love with him. I _am_ in love with him." DJ helplessly palms at her face. "This is awful."

A chuckle rumbles in Logan's chest. "It usually is."

"Really comforting, asshole."

"I don't recall you hanging around me for my sensitive side," he reminds her bluntly, pulling a cigar out of his jacket.

She rolls her eyes and resists delivering a punch that will hurt her more than him. "Yeah, see, you can't really say that sort of thing around the man I love. Because I love him and shit."

"You be careful with that," he warns her and it's oddly serious. "And remember you can always come back to us."

DJ shakes her head, already tuning out because she's had this conversation with him a million times in the past and it never ceases to sting. "No."

"You're not like them."

"Close enough."

His expression doesn't change as he barrels on. "No such thing as close enough. They either are or they aren't. They'll never understand. You'll always be the odd one out. The freak. Don't think it won't ever come down to you against them."

"It won't," she tells him so vehemently that his eyebrows twitch in surprise. "Because they're… They're my family now, and I would pick them over me any day."

* * *

As it is now, I'm contemplating the thought of a sequel once I wrap this one up. Thoughts? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. In my opinion everyone needs awkward sex advice from an Asgardian. =] Reviews would make my heart swell with endless love.


	10. Trouble

The Avengers are a bunch of assholes. All of them. For different reasons.

Somebody (fuck _you_, Natasha) thought that since Logan had come all this way he might as well stay for a while. And DJ is very aware that that had _nothing_ to do with hospitality. This was actual proof that she found joy in others' misery.

Bruce of course thought this was a fantastic idea, and enthusiastically pulled up an extra chair at the dinner table. Stupid scientist and all his important _questions_. Jokes on him- Logan's not too big a fan of Q&A's.

Tony doesn't need much explanation on this account. One can generally imagine any scenario where an act of assholery has been committed and Tony has probably done it. But this time DJ walks into the room to see him pushing Logan down into a chair before taking his own seat. Leaving the last available space between Logan and Steve.

Without actually behaving like an asshole, Steve is probably the biggest asshole of them all right now. He's just sitting next to her with this annoying insecurely jealous pouty face. And as much as she would be pissed if he was acting all '_you're mine don't talk to him',_ it's worse that he's respecting her independence or whatever, because he's just attempting to be so _understanding_ and she feels guilty for no fair reason.

She nearly falls out of her seat when she's surprised by a balled up napkin hitting her square in the face. "Clint!"

"You were silently brooding," he explains remorselessly. "I was just being helpful."

"Yes, thank you. Let me show my appreciation by shoving my foot up your ass."

Thor puts down the chicken leg he's been gnawing at to give DJ a severely concerned look. "I am new to the traditions of Midgard, but I do not believe that is something many would enjoy. Perhaps it is also the wrong choice if you are wishing to get back in Steven's good graces."

"You'd think he'd start picking up some of these figures of speech," Tony muses with equal parts amusement and disbelief. "Even Steve's stopped raising his hackles at some of the more colorful phrases we've tossed out."

"That's because most of them are directed at you," Steve mumbles under his breath, but Logan catches it and snorts a laugh.

"What? What'd he say?"

Bruce leans slightly over the table, eyes darting over Logan's rigid posture. "Your hearing is phenomenal, and I've noticed your sense of smell is enhanced too. What about your sight? Is that effected by your mutation as well?"

Logan gives him a flat look, but stops short in responding when DJ runs a hand down his arm, curling her fingers around her wrist at the end of the caress. Steve sits up straighter in his chair and his own strong fingers grab her shoulder. The men exchange assessing glares, and if one of them happens to growl then no one can claim to know which it was.

"We should change the subject," Pepper offers a little uncomfortably. God bless her and her limited comfort zone.

Clint's eyebrows raise a fraction. "Why? Is there something worth hiding?"

"You don't need to pry into everyone's business all the time," DJ snaps. "You act like SHIELD automatically demands everyone to hand over the keys to their soul."

"There's nothing wrong with caution."

"And there's nothing wrong with the occasional faith in mankind!" Clint's chair jerks forward, trapping him painfully against the table. "Or don't we count as mankind?"

Steve abruptly jumps to his feet, hauling DJ up alongside him. "That's a bit of a leap. I think we all need to calm down before things get out of hand." He casts a nervous glance at Clint, who's pushing away from the table completely unperturbed. "I don't think he's being unreasonable. If we're all on the same side, there's no reason not to be open with each other."

"It's just a little alarming," Logan begins slowly rising to stand flush against DJ. "To people like you."

"Don't patronize me," Steve scowls, moving until DJ is sufficiently sandwiched between the two of them. On any given day she wouldn't really mind, but this situation just screams _danger, danger!_

"Wouldn't dream of it." He uses the back of his hand to slip DJ out of the way, and her back bounces against the wall at the rough carelessness of the gesture.

Steve's jaw clenches tight, and any professionalism left on his face is replaced by anger. "Watch it. You don't get to shove her around like that."

"She's fine. Stop treating her like a little doll. She's tougher than she looks." Logan flashes a mocking smile. "And she likes things rough."

"Logan!" She flicks her gaze worriedly at Steve, who's clenching his fist. "Steve, stop it. Back off."

"_Me_?"

DJ notices with a vague panic that Clint and Tony have disappeared, Natasha is looming not too far from Logan, and Bruce is keeping his distance as he monitors his heart rate _very_ closely. "Both of you," she snaps, trying desperately to pry them apart, but neither budge. "Logan. Logan, please."

There's a faint _whoosh_ as an arrow sails through the air, and then a collective gasp as it's stopped in its tracks by a pair of adamantium claws. In the span of just a few seconds Natasha is leaping for Logan's back, Bruce wails and crumples to the ground in a shade of green, Iron Man barrels into the room the same time that Mjölnir crashes through the wall into Thor's hand, and Steve and Logan turn to each other with raised fists.

DJ's heart only has the chance to skip one beat before everyone is flying across the room in different directions. She doesn't really have time to wonder ifthey're okay, because her nose is bleeding and her body is approaching the floor alarmingly fast.

* * *

When she comes to, the first thing she sees is Steve's worried face hovering over hers. She can't help smiling despite the killer ache pulsing through her brain. "Hey."

"Daisy?" His features softened out in relief, and a large warm hand came up to rest on her cheek. "You scared me. I… I had no idea."

She breathes a self-conscious laugh and tugs him down next to her on the bed. "Yeah, I told you exhaustion was a thing. Moderation is kind of important, but-"

"No, I- I mean yes. You should take better care of yourself, but I meant…" Steve trails off in awe. "I had _no_ idea you were that powerful."

A faint flush colors DJ's cheeks and she has to look away. "I try to make a habit of keeping it on lockdown, but Logan… He gets carried away sometimes and he can't help it. Instinct, you know? And I was _terrified_ of one of you getting hurt and… I'm sorry."

"Don't." His voice is hard-edged and she's worried for a second that he's going to throw the towel in and hand her over to Logan. "Don't ever be sorry. That was amazing. _You're_ amazing."

DJ practically sobs in relief, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "I thought you'd treat me like a freak. I was just waiting for you to realize that I couldn't be normal and give up on me. And Logan, he's been around so long that he doesn't understand that things are better now. That people like me and him don't have to isolate ourselves from the real world. From people. But he was getting to me. And I was _so_ scared. I didn't think I could take it if you… If you…"

"I don't think I could give up on you," Steve admitted in a tone of surrender. "No matter what you did, or do, or don't. Ever."

He feels her smile against his skin. "Even if you think I'm a whore?"

"I don't." At her doubtful look Steve curls an arm around her waist. "I _don't_. That's not why I… Um…"

"Refuse to consummate the relationship? Flee when the going gets good? Are totally not attracted to me?"

Steve rolls his eyes and shifts so that he's on top of her, weight braced on his arms. "I'm definitely _very_ attracted to you. But I was frozen for seventy years, and before that I was either fighting Nazis or smiling to get people to throw their money into the war effort. And even before _that_ I wasn't anything dames would look twice at. I just didn't want to disappoint you."

"You really are a fucking idiot." She says it with such fondness that he can't really find cause to be offended. "Steve, I could really care less if you're the most virginal virgin to ever walk amongst this land of sin."

"And I'm not like Logan."

"No shit." Seriously, was this supposed to surprise her? "If that's what I wanted it'd be him in my bed right now. It's not like me and him were actually dating, and I'm not after more casual sex. I've had enough of that. I'm after you. Because, like I told Logan earlier, I love you."

Steve's weight slowly settled against her, leaving no space except for the fraction of an inch between their lips. The look in his eyes forced all the air out of her lungs. He looked like he'd opened his eyes to the sun for the first time after walking through life all these years blind. "I love you, too."

"God only knows why."

"I'll make you understand," he whispers against her mouth. "Even if it's the last thing I do."

A hand traces down her side, making her shiver, until it twists up in the hem of her tee and tugs until the fabric is on the floor across the room. His lips close around her collar bone as she struggles with his shirt, stalling her even more when she arches up into him. Steve gasps into her flesh and DJ's pants don't make it to the growing pile in the corner without an eager rip down the front.

"Wait," Steve pulls away, panting, as DJ fumbles clumsily at his belt. "You _collapsed_ not too long ago. We shouldn't."

DJ doesn't even pause for a half-second, pushing his pants down over his hips. "It was nothing serious. And don't mother me, I know my limits. I'm fine. Fantastic." And honestly, she was. She could sprint five times around the world she was so fine.

Really, she was just so ecstatic that this was one memory she didn't have to share with a ghost. This night was hers and hers alone. And maybe years from now, long after Steve's grown tired of her, her face will be the one he sees behind his eyelids as he lays beside someone else.

* * *

Steve likes her tattoo. The black silhouette of a phoenix- wings raised in flight- on her inner thigh. He mostly likes the way she shuddered as his thumb brushed over it.

He can't control the grin on his face as he sits down at the table next to Thor with a plate of breakfast piled as high as his. Clint peers blearily at him from beside the coffee maker. "You definitely have the 'I'm thinking about all the awesome sex I had last night' look."

"Congratulations!" Thor booms slapping Steve on the back. "Regale us with the tale of your passions!"

"_No_."

"Come on," Tony strolls in and steals the fresh mug of coffee Clint's just finished making. "At least tell us about the tattoo."

Steve glares and feels only **slightly** mollified when Clint twists Tony's arm painfully behind his back and takes back his cup. He focuses back on his eggs, trying to fight back the rush of heat from both embarrassment and _remembering_. "It's none of your business."

"I agree," Natasha shows up to slip the coffee out of Clint's hands before it makes its way to his lips. He doesn't argue this time. "If she wanted you to know she'd tell you. It's probably embarrassing."

"It's not," Steve says a little too vehemently. "It's beautiful."

She scoffs as kicks her feet up on the table. "Well I'm sure you think so, but it's probably one of those trite butterflies that young women today think makes them cute."

"Nice try," Steve notes disapprovingly. "Maybe try that on somebody who hasn't seen you milk someone for information before."

* * *

When DJ wakes up this time it's because a cool breeze rolls in over her skin. She groans and stretches and her hands feel over the sheets that are still warm from Steve sleeping curled up around her. Her eyes flutter open, stinging against the bright sun flooding the room.

The balcony door is open, which is unusual, but she figures it's just something Steve's done. She slides out of bed, wrapping the sheets around her like a toga, and pads outside. It's almost too quiet- the sounds of the city relatively calm as she glances around for Steve.

It's empty. Almost. She stops when she catches sight of something small resting on the railing, inching forward only when she's relatively certain it's nothing that's going to kill her. She picks it up, examining it almost numbly. One fresh flower. A daisy.

Logan bursts into her room, claws out by his sides. "I smelled-"

"Yeah," she lifts the flower for him to see.

"Did he-"

"I didn't see anything."

"Are you-"

"I'm fine." She sighs and crushes the daisy between her fingers. "I… You should leave"

Logan retracts his claws, but growls nonetheless. "No chance."

"Aren't you the one that told Steve to stop treating me like a doll?"

"This is different," he reasons.

"Not really. I just… It's too much. Too much past at once. It's not like I'm alone in this. I don't mean to say that I don't need you, but I don't need you. I adore you, but I don't. I think I'd probably go crazy if you stayed. And I know you didn't mean it, but you almost stabbed my friends."

"Oops." He doesn't sound sorry. She gives him a sour look. "Fine. But I'll be watching."

DJ rolls her eyes, pushing past him to step back inside. "How ominous. Tell everyone I said hi." She holds the door open and gestures for him to leave. "Oh, and if anyone else has any ideas of visiting, have them call first."


	11. Revenant

"What's that?"

"Nothing!" DJ nearly squeaks as she whips around, hiding the flower behind her back. She crumples it up and tosses it blindly into the trash, flashing Steve a disarming smile. "Just garbage. You know how I am- leaving a mess everywhere I go." In more ways than one.

Steve gives a lopsided smile and pulls her into an embrace. "I hardly think that you're the worst out of all of us. Thor and Tony definitely have you beat. You and Clint are at least tied."

"Natasha threated to strangle me with a noose constructed out of shoelaces the next time I leave my sneakers in the hallway."

He gives a shrug like it's nothing. "Bruce tripped over them last time and Hulk almost threw Tony through the wall."

"Fair enough." She tips her head back to give Steve a quick peck. "Did you need something?"

"Yeah. Tony asked me to find you. He has something to show you in his workshop."

Odd considering last time she checked she wasn't in need of a suit of armor or explosive arrows, but if she's been summoned she might as well go before Tony sends someone a lot more obnoxious than Steve to retrieve her. Like Clint. Clint who is actually also in the workshop when she gets there.

"If there were any two people in the entire world that I would not like to see conspiring against me, it would be you." DJ plops down on a stool a cautious distance away. "What're you up to?"

Tony only halfway acknowledges her presence, not turning around to show her what he's fiddling with, but explaining it to her in a way she actually understands. "I've been working on something in case you turn psychotic and go on a spree of mass destruction. An atom stabilizer. Just don't tell Rogers. I've been punched by him before- not really an experience I'd like to repeat."

"Alright." She hesitates for a brief second. "I'm all for it, but what does Clint have to do with this?"

"Er, yeah. This is the less exciting part of this for you. It has to make skin contact to work, and you're not exactly the easiest person to get close to when you're kicking ass. So we'd probably have to shoot you."

Ah. Well that makes a lot more sense. Steve probably wouldn't be able to shoot her even if the world were at stake. Tony couldn't do it either, if not because of their fast blooming friendship, it's because he has a strangely optimistic compulsion to go on self-sacrificing fix-it binges that end up with everyone alive even if it'd be easier not to. But… "Natasha?"

"Already asked. She wouldn't do it." Tony gives her an odd look. "Listen, I thought you and Barton were okay. Ultimately, it's up to you. As long as no one squeals to Fury, then this is just between us. You can say no."

Her and Clint _are_ okay. For the most part, at least. They like each other well enough as people, even if they mostly bond over their mutual antagonism. She knows that in battle they'd have each other's backs. But he wouldn't give her the benefit of the doubt, because he's the sort of guy that thinks in terms of the big picture.

She's used to people having faith in her, even if she doesn't have faith in herself. Captain America would try and talk her down off the ledge. Iron Man would fly in circles around her taking every ounce of abuse until she gets a handle on herself. But Hawkeye is a man of action over faith. She doesn't kid herself that one day she won't end up with an arrow in her chest.

"No. I mean yes." They both arch a brow. "I mean give it to him."

"Are you sure?"

DJ rolls her eyes because really, of all times for Tony to act considerate. _Now_? It's annoying. "Sure that it's what's best for me? It probably isn't. But I'm sure that it's what's best for everyone else."

Clint grins and gives her a slap of camaraderie on the back. "You're starting to sound like an Avenger already."

"Joy," she deadpans. "Now all I need is a flamboyant costume and we're good to go."

"I've actually got some prototypes for that, too."

She groans and cards her fingers through her hair. "That concerns me more than an arrow with my name on it." Tony jerks a tarp away from the closest table and all she can do is stare. "Where's the rest of it?"

"What do you mean _the rest of it_?" Tony huffs indignantly. "This is all of it."

"This is practically lingerie, Tony. Unless you plan on modeling me after Stripperella, you're going to have to make me some pants."

He scoffs. "You _would_ watch trashy cartoons. Just try it on."

"No. Just looking at it makes me feel dirty."

"I like it," Clint shrugged.

"Of course you do!" Tony exclaims. "Because it's a work of genius. It's the same amount of coverage Wonder Woman gets."

She scowls and throws the tarp back over the table. "She's fictional. And an Amazon. I'm relatively human, and I don't think it's particularly safe to have my ass hanging out when evil-doers get a hankering to blast us halfway across town."

"Fury said the Avengers need to start getting good PR. Sex appeal is always good PR," Tony reasoned with an edge to his voice, like a belligerent child who wasn't getting his way. He'd be stomping his feet and throwing things soon.

"Half of you prance around in skin-tight outfits, and Bruce is _naked_. I think you have enough sex appeal." DJ hops down off the stool and calls over her shoulder as she stalks off. "Fix it and get back to me."

* * *

"Have you thought of a name?" Steve grunts as he takes a swing and goes right through her.

DJ tries to aim a kick at the back of his knees, but she's quickly grabbed and tossed over his shoulder onto the floor. "Um…" She's panting, out of breath upon impact. "I was under the impression I already had a name."

She flicks her wrist and Steve is sprawled out on the mat beside her. "I meant for field work." He rolls on top of her and pins her wrists over her head with one hand. "It's a necessity."

"Ugh. I don't know. It's not like there are any obvious ones staring me in the face, _Captain America_. You can't exactly call me _I'm-Going-To-Incapacitate-You-With-A-Punching-Bag Girl_."

"What-" The punching bag flies off its hook and slams against Steve's side hard enough to have him skidding a few good feet across the room. "Ow. But I'm hardly incapacitated."

She grins. "Yet."

The punching bag slowly rises in the air, but before it can hit anything it falls back to the ground with a _thump_ as a kick to the back of the head makes DJ pitch forward. "Not fair," she grumbles, turning to see Natasha standing there with a smirk.

"Because bad guys have a tendency to play fair." She dodges the elbow that DJ jabs her way. "They're not going to take turns."

"I've been thinking," Steve adds as his arm locks around DJ's neck. "And I came to the same conclusion as you. There _aren't_ any obvious choices." DJ atomizes as Natasha swings at her, and Steve takes the blow to his stomach. "_Oof_. But I remembered when you were talking to Fury-"

"Can you at least _pretend_ I'm making you break a sweat?" She complains as she sags against the wall in exhaustion.

Steve gives Natasha a boost, hurling her across the room towards DJ, and when her feet meet the wall where the blonde used to be she pushes off and collides with her where she's rematerialized. "You're too predictable."

"Not every baddie is going to be a badass brilliant Russian, either. We're occasionally going to fight some dumbasses, so I think I'm okay." She rests her face in the crook of her elbow, going limp against the mat. "And I give. You win. Now let me ache and sob in peace."

Helping both women to their feet- whether they want to stand or not- Steve continues his conversation as if there was never any interruption. "I remembered you saying to Fury that it was like you were in Poltergeist. I didn't really get the reference, but JARVIS helped me when I asked and I thought that made a lot of sense."

"That name's already taken," Natasha says offhandedly as she stretches out her muscles.

"Yeah, JARVIS told me that, too. A lot of names are taken, actually. So it took a lot of thinking."

DJ leans her weight against Steve's side as they make their way towards the elevator, feeling a little boneless. "And I appreciate the effort. I love you endlessly and whatnot, but you're not exactly the hippest hero around. I don't need a 1940's kicker of a name like _Moxie_ or something."

"Miss America?" Natasha's not even smiling but DJ can totally tell she's silently pissing her pants in laughter.

"Um, A) You're a bitch, and B) _Tony_ makes better jokes than that."

The doors open with a ping and Steve ushers them inside. "Revenant."

* * *

DJ's stopped sleeping in her room. She woke up too many mornings with the balcony door open.

One day she wakes up in Steve's bed with his strong, warm arms wrapped around her. His face is buried against her chest and his breaths are deep and even with sleep. She smiles until she turns to the alarm clock to check the time. It's only six thirty-seven so she has a while left to sleep. But there's a daisy on the nightstand and she can't bring herself to shut her eyes.

The images still creep in through the tiny walls she's built in her brain. It feels like a phantom fist has clenched around her heart. And she remembers.

She remembers the way he said her name. _Daisy_. Like it was a joke and a curse.

She remembers crying at his feet and begging with a desperation that filled her every pore. How he didn't even have the cold decency to laugh at her pathetic plea, but watched with silent apathy as if she were nothing.

And she remembers a night consumed by a drug-induced haze. Being strapped to a table. A sharp concentrated pain somewhere, and then the bloom of agony everywhere. Making deals with the devil. A devil with a terrifyingly sharp mind and a way with machinery.

Bile rises in her throat and she knows: she had never escaped for even one second.

She starts shaking even as her skin burns hot. It's a struggle to slip on one of Steve's shirts over her trembling shoulders, even leaving it unbuttoned. She staggers forward and the sheen of sweat beading all over her body makes it difficult to grab on to something when her knees buckle. But she's halfway to the kitchen, so she's alright with dragging herself across the floor on her stomach.

The tile is freezing against her mostly bare skin. She rolls over onto her back and claws at her neck, arms, and thighs, scratching at a fabricated itch. It's with the last bit of energy that she possesses that she hauls herself up to sit on the counter. She fumbles around blindly, grasping a butcher knife.

Tony chooses then to amble into the scene.

"What the fuck?"

"Help," she gasps, barely audible. Her skin is clammy and gray, like she's just pulled herself from the brink of death. Or she's fast approaching.

Tony stalks forward, gripping the wrist of the quivering hand holding the knife. "What… What do I- I don't even- I can't- You have to-"

"Shut… Up…" She fights for every breath and slumps forward against his chest. "There's… In… body… Tracker… Don't know… Where…"

"It's making you sick? Hurting you?"

She drops the knife and it clatters to the floor as her weight thumps back against the cabinets. "Fucking… Obviously…"

"How can someone so close to death be so sassy?" he grumbles checking her pulse with one hand as his other roams across her skin looking for an inconsistency.

She laughs deliriously. "Talent…"

His hands ghost across her collar bone, down her sides, over the inside of her arms. The crook of her elbow, her stomach, around her hips. His fingers fumble over a tiny scar on her inner thigh, perfectly parallel to the tattoo on her other leg. "Ah, yes, right there."

Steve leans against the doorway, confused.

Tony absorbs what the scene must look like. DJ in her underwear, Tony between her legs, fingers rubbing over private places. "Um, this is entirely different to what you're probably thinking."

"I know." The total trust on his face makes DJ want to break down in sobs. "What can I do?"

"Hand me a clean knife and hold her down."

DJ screams and bows her back as Tony makes a shallow cut. She feels him digging around. She feels Steve's fingers bruising as he tries to keep her from flailing out and hurting herself. She feels an invisible poison leaking through her veins. She feels it swimming through her even as Tony yanks out the small metal chip.

She leans over the sink and vomits violently. Her body convulses and Steve is scooping her up in his arms and there's a whole lot of people screaming until Steve's solid voice cuts through. "Hospital! Hospital!"

* * *

I lovingly refer to this chapter as the 'oh shit' chapter. And for the record, it really is impossible to come up with an original superhero name. I tried my best and did my research, and while Revenant is actually taken, it's still a relatively obscure graphic novel. So it's a lesser of several evils. And I just rambled all over you. Sorry 'bout that. Reviews would be nuggets of wonderful.


	12. A Most Beautiful Ruby Red

Without even opening her eyes she knows that smell enough to recognize it as a hospital. So she doesn't open her eyes. But that doesn't make it any less real. "I know you're awake now."

Steve.

"I'm sorry."

"For being awake? Or for keeping something from us that's apparently pretty damn important?"

Natasha.

DJ gives up and makes her eyes crack open. Yep. The gang's all here. "Both. And probably a few other things along the way."

"How are you feeling?" Tony looks a little shaken, hands tinted a light pink. That's her blood on his hands…

"Not dead. I'm still deciding whether that's good or not."

"Not funny." And _wow_ is Steve being a hard ass today. Not that he doesn't have a valid reason, but maybe the bitch fest could start _after_ she's out of the hospital.

Bruce shuffles awkwardly on his feet. "I'd say it's good. Better than choking on your own vomit or having vital organs shut down."

"You can always count on Banner to bring the fun in," Clint rolled his eyes and let his tension ebb away a fraction. _Aww_. He was worried.

Steve frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't understand why everyone seems to think this is a laughing matter."

"Be fair, Steven," Thor spoke gravely as he clasped a giant hand on his shoulder. "We all experienced quite a scare- it is only right to have a brief moment of respite. Though perhaps answers are indeed in order."

DJ's gaze is suddenly glued to the scratchy hospital blanket like it's the most interesting thing in the world. "I might have left one small little detail out of my timeline."

"Which detail?" And there's a subtle nuance of dread in Natasha's tone that DJ's fairly certain is only reserved for the people she cares about.

"The one where Reed Richards was fucking useless, so I went to somebody who would try a little bit harder to help me get rid of my powers."

Steve looks sick to his stomach, and when he swallows thickly it appears to hurt. "Who?" As if everyone hadn't figured it out.

"Victor von Doom."

He turns away from her and begins to pace almost frantically, like he's a hair's breadth away from punching a hole in the wall. "And why, _why_ would you think he'd help you? Tell me, because I really need to know."

"Everyone has a price, right?" She feels ashamed just saying the words, and it doesn't help when Steve grinds the heels of his hands against his eyes. "I was desperate, Steve. I had no other options. I barely had anything left to _give_!"

Steve whirls around to face her, jaw set and eyes hard. "There's _always_ another option."

Natasha sits on the edge of the hospital bed, intervening in the conversation that was quickly getting out of hand. "What was the trade off?"

"All he wanted was a year of servitude. It didn't sound so bad. I just had to be his little errand girl for twelve months and then he'd take this fucking curse away. And he wouldn't hurt anybody I loved. That was the deal. But… The errands weren't really what I bargained for."

Pepper makes a strangled sound in the back of her throat, sitting down in a chair a little unsteadily. "And these _errands_ involved your powers… And you… You…"

"I never hurt anybody." DJ couldn't even put any conviction behind her words. How could she even begin to expect them to believe her? "But I never stopped him from hurting them, either. I scared people and they talked, or they traded their own favors, or they ran screaming from their hideaways. I delivered them on a silver platter."

Clint nodded a little too solemnly, even for him. "And you never fulfilled your obligation."

"There are two months, one week, and four days left."

"And that sick bastard's just been biding his time," Tony growled, picking at the flecks of red under his nails. "You fall into the lap of the Avengers and _oh_, what a perfect time for him to make a move. And he's trying to draw you out. Draw out your secrets. Turn us against you, and you against us."

Thor gave a harsh, humorless laugh. "I admit that upon first meeting you I was not in your favor, but I would not turn my back on you now so easily. We have all made mistakes, have we not?"

Tony had created weapons that were turned against his own people. Bruce had left a Hulk-sized dent in New York. Thor tried to start a bloody war with the Frost Giants. Clint and Natasha were mysteries, but largely self-explanatory. But no, that wasn't everyone.

"Steve, I-"

"DJ!"

She bolts upright in bed, nearly jerking the IV out of her hand. "_Mom_?" Her eyes dart from the woman in the doorway to the man. "_Dad_?" And then the eager face peering over both their shoulders. "_Dana_?"

It's almost funny how easy it is for a completely normal eighteen year old girl to push several superheroes out of the way to get to her sister. "Where have you **been**?"

"Uh, I… Around?" DJ winces as the younger girl throws herself on top of her in a crushing hug.

"How did you guys…?"

Her father- tall and slender and strikingly pale- strides forward with a brow raised. "I work here; I have friends that are going to tell me if my missing daughter comes in with a severe case of poisoning. And let me take this moment to say that this is _not_ the preferred method for reuniting after a _year_."

Oh yeah, this man was definitely her father.

Her mother- the spitting image of what DJ might look like in twenty years (and yes, Tony does a double take)- swoops into the room and her stormy countenance is stifling. "We thought you were _dead_. And I'm mad enough right now that that could be arranged."

Really, this explains a lot about DJ.

"Yes, because running away from home like a bratty thirteen year old was always at the top of my list of things I'd _really_ like to do, wasn't it?" She rolls her eyes so hard that it has to hurt. "Clearly there was a reason, mother."

"A reason? A _reason_? What could possibly be dire enough that-"

"It doesn't matter," her father cuts the older woman off. "She's here now and she's alright and she can come back home with us."

DJ scowls and gently pushes her sister away from her. "No I can't. Or, well, I _could_. But I won't."

"And why not?" Her mother barked. "And who are all these people? Only family is allowed back here."

Dana cocks her head to the side, brow crinkling in consideration. "Is that Tony Stark? DJ why are you hanging out with- Oh God, is that _Thor_? Is my sister friends with a billionaire **and** a Norse god?"

"Yes," DJ confirms stiffly. "And they're why I'm not coming home. I'm an Avenger now."

"Unofficially," Steve adds.

"Are you Captain America?"

He smiles his perfect sparkly heart-melting smile. "Steve Rogers."

"You're so dreamy," Dana sighs.

"Back off," DJ glares.

And Clint helpfully supplies, "They're dating."

"Captain America could be my brother-in-law…"

"That's moving a little fast, Miss."

"Yes, please don't encourage your sister's poor life decisions."

Bruce catches a chair before it goes sliding across the room. "Um, guys? I think we're overwhelming her. Maybe we should let her rest."

"I agree," her father said, herding his wife and his youngest daughter towards the door. "But I expect some answers in the morning."

"That makes two of us," Steve muttered as the Avengers followed the family out.

* * *

The pencil in Steve's hand floats skillfully over the pad of paper, filling in shadows around defined cheekbones. He uses the tip of his finger to lightly smudge, making the contrast more natural and elegant. Elegant like her.

"I love the look on your face when you draw."

Steve jumps and looks over his shoulder at DJ. "What are you doing here?"

"Tony helped me escape the evil clutches of the hospital. The nighttime staff was full of bitches."

"Your family will be mad." He turns back to his drawing like it doesn't matter to him either way if she's there or not.

She shrugs and sits down next to him on the bed. "I left a note. Promised to call." Her eyes slide down to the paper. "She's beautiful."

"Yes. She was. And a hell of a dame."

"It's a perfect likeness, too," she compliments softly. "I've seen your compass. The newspaper clippings. All those faded old photographs."

"Thank you."

DJ slides the pad out of Steve's hands and sets it aside, trying for his attention. "When you told me you loved me, did you mean it?"

"I wouldn't lie about something like that." The way he says it is almost angry but mostly just weighed with exhaustion.

"But do you love me like you loved her?"

Steve stands and crosses to the window, just so he has something to look at that isn't her. "That's a ridiculous question."

"And that isn't an answer." Which is telling in of itself.

"I don't know how I love her." Steve grounds out in frustration, and DJ doesn't fail to take note of the present tense. "Why?"

She breathes out a tiny little laugh, but it falls flat and sad. "Because I've always felt like I'm just a placeholder for someone who's never coming back."

"That's not fair," he starts, but he must realize his argument is pretty weak because he quickly changes tactics. "We both have pasts that haunt us."

"Well yeah, but there's kind of a difference, Steve!" DJ doesn't want to start yelling, but she can't help it. If she doesn't get mad she'll just start crying, and that won't get her anywhere. "I'm trying so fucking hard to run away from mine, and you're hurtling desperately towards yours like a bird flying full force into a window! I'm… I'm right here. Why can't I be enough for you?"

All the doors and windows in the room jerk open violently. Everything in the room vibrates with a low hum as Steve drags himself back over to DJ and drops to his knees at her feet. The first tear rolls down her pale cheek as furniture, and clothes, and books, and knickknacks start to thrash and twirl around them like they're caught in the eye of a tornado. He rests his head on her lap as his powerful arms come up to wrap desperately around her waist and his voice is rough, and low, and defeated. "This has to stop, Daisy."

"What the hell do you think I've been trying to do?" She bites out bitterly. "Doom's crazy machine? That useless training with Xavier? The booze, the pills, the meditation? You think that was all for _fun_?"

"Not _this_," he waves his hands at the mess of their bedroom. "The _lying_. It's the lying I can't take."

She pushes him away and he can see a thin trail of ruby trickling from her nose. "The… The _lying_? I just can't win, can I? No. Of course not. Because you're Captain America and I could never be good enough for someone like you."

Steve notes with alarm that she's starting to look translucent. Starting to dissolve.

"I give up _everything_ to make this sickness go away, but it won't ever make me a good person. Because it will always be inside of me, and I will always remember just how easily I can hurt people. And yes, Steve, even you. They can't trust me, you can't trust me, and I don't even trust myself anymore. You should've left me there in last night! You should've killed me when you had the chance!"

The whirlwind crashes to the ground as Steve tackles DJ back onto the bed. She solidifies and claws at his shoulders, speaking around a pool of blood. "I _love_ you! What more do you want from me? I can't be better. I can't change. I've tried!"

"Maybe you should stop loving me." The words seem to echo in the sudden silence. They stab sharp and hot into DJ's chest.

"I don't know how," she whispers. "And even if I could I wouldn't want to."

Steve rolls off of her and stares blankly at the ceiling. "You should go home. To your family."

"Just because _you_ don't want me anymore doesn't mean everyone else feels the same." Her gut twists and her heartbreaks and it's all she can do to keep herself together- literally- and not explode into a million little particles and float away.

"You haven't even been in a field situation yet and you've been a danger to yourself and others, and…" His eyes flick over to look at her and the words die on his lips.

"I get it. I'm unstable and unreliable. It's clear you don't think I'm cut out for this. I'm no hero."

Steve reaches out unsteadily, ghosting over her golden curls. "Your hair…" His fingers come back shiny, and slick, and sickly red. Her ears dribble lines of blood identical to her nose. "You shouldn't have left the hospital."

"It has nothing to do with the poison," DJ snaps, batting his hand away. She stumbles clumsily to her feet, rubbing her throbbing temples. "My brain can't handle the exertion. My powers fry me out."

"This only proves my point." His voice is steely and firm and all Captain America and no beautiful sweet Steve. "And if you won't go back to the hospital at least go see Bruce."

"Fuck you." She stops at the doorway but keeps her back to him. "We bring Doom down and I'll leave. You should probably try to keep your distance until then. I don't want to lose control like that again. If I hurt you, it would be something I never recovered from."

DJ waits for a response. She could have anticipated what he'd say in the past. Something so stupidly sure like _you'd never hurt me_. Or something sweet and solid like _I trust you more than that_. Now all that's left is painful spaces filled with silence.

* * *

"You're overworking yourself," Bruce scolded as he wiped at her face with a cool cloth. "You've completely blacked out, nearly died from intravenous poison, and bled from several orifices in an alarmingly short span of time. The more you wear yourself out the worse your control will get, and the more you'll burn out."

"The first time was a necessity," DJ defended sourly. "The poison wasn't my fault, and this last time was an accident. I would think that you of all people could understand that."

Bruce sighs and drops the cloth into the bowl of now pink water. "Of course I understand, but even with the help of your father you're not healing like you should. This bleeding won't stop and you've been sluggish for weeks. I don't want you to keep this up and get brain damage. Or worse."

"I appreciate the concern Bruce, but you know that I can't just stop."

"You could, but you won't." He gives her a sad smile. His smiles are always kind of sad. "I wouldn't either. That doesn't make it any less self-destructive."

DJ wipes at her mouth, trying to get rid of the coppery taste. "I made a choice when I was scared; it's only fair if I'm the one to pay the price."

"Not if the price is your life."

She hates the way he talks sometimes. So calm and matter-of-fact. Like he's always in the know and there's always a safe, sane solution. But there's not. Not this time.

"_Especially_ if it's my life."


	13. Increments

DJ bolts through the house, nearly knocking Pepper over in her haste. She dodges Clint who absent mindedly attempts to trip her and jogs right through the sealed door to Tony's workshop. There's a small twinge of pain in her skull, but she ignores it and plasters on a grin. "You said it's finished?"

"It was _finished_ a week ago," Tony complained as his fingers danced around holographic images of his armor. "But it's been modified for an ungrateful diva that has rolled around in the sack with a chain of superheroes but won't flash her ass for the greater good, if that's what you mean."

"That's exactly what I mean."

Tony brushes past her, sparing her a quick glance. "Don't you flutter those lashes at me. You'll have to answer to Pepper, you harlot. And I'm not changing the design again. I went on the record saying that. Didn't I, JARVIS? Tell her."

"_Indeed, Sir. You announced as much rather frequently._"

"Okay, okay," DJ flapped her hands impatiently. "Let's see it then."

He jerked the tarp away with the same flourish as the first time, but the difference was that this time DJ was incredibly pleased with the result. It was beautiful- sleek and powerful looking. Mostly practical, and _yes_, sexy.

"It's mostly leather," Tony told her as he ran a finger over the top almost lovingly. "Lined with Kevlar."

The top was practically a bustier, stopping just below her ribs with a line of buckles down each side. It was a soft periwinkle color with a sharp charcoal accent. The pants matched, tight and low on her hips, but full-length. She had a thick dark gray jacket with plenty of compartments, and a belt with holsters at the side, just in case. And the boots- knee-high, decked in buckles, heavy.

"Steel-toed," Tony informs her proudly. "To give your kicks that extra zest."

"How thoughtful," she beams as she slides them on, bouncing around to test the weight. "It's great unless someone decides to drive a shiv into my stomach."

Tony cuts her a disapproving look. "Just don't go to the state penitentiary and you should be fine. And you're intangible in the face of danger- your costume is more for branding purposes."

"That and you have to show some skin in case Clint has to skewer me," DJ says nonchalantly, hopping up on the edge of a work table. "Don't give me that face. I get it."

"Yeah, well, Bruce tells me that the arrow might be a moot point if you keep up with the tricks you're pulling." He straightens out the lapels of her jacket. "If you were planning on going on a suicide mission it would have been nice to tell me that before I wasted my time and resources."

DJ ruffles his hair affectionately, earning herself a glare. "That's Tony speak for you're concerned about me. But I've been getting this shit from everyone; I don't need it from a man who let his high-tech pacemaker poison him."

"And we don't need two Tony Starks."

"Don't be ridiculous," she starts with mock seriousness. "I'm not nearly rich enough to be you. Brilliant? Yeah. Charming? Irrefutably. I'll even accept arrogant and reckless, but my bank account is all me, baby."

"You forgot the romantically inadequate similarities we tend to share."

She groans, letting her head fall forward onto his shoulder. "Is this the portion of the evening where you attempt to talk to me about Steve?"

"That's apparently what friends do. So I hear. Sounds kind of agonizing to me, but I do try to follow social norms occasionally."

"Well this is one norm that you do not have to abide by. Seriously. Don't."

"Thank God," he sighs, pushing her away to get another look at her suit. "How's it fit? Breathes enough? Not too tight?"

She scoots down to her feet and does a little twirl. "It fits impeccably. Everywhere. Which leaves me uneasy that you know the shape and size of my boobs so perfectly."

"I have a good eye. Especially for good-"

"While I'm sure that the next words out of your mouth were going to be an incredibly classy compliment, I wouldn't want to have to test out these steel-toed boots on the weaker parts of your anatomy."

* * *

"Maybe try not throwing villains at me next time," Clint grumbled over the comm as he struggled against a fussy sorceress.

DJ laughed as she dodged an enchanted shrub. "I'll aim for one of the other four men who have much more impressive arm strength."

"I, for one, vote not throwing villains in general," Tony offered, knocking the shrub out with a repulsor blast. "Too much pressure to catch them, it's kind of a liability, and it just pisses them off and makes them turn the vegetation sentient."

Hulk roars and tosses the sorceress's counterpart- a young, lanky sorcerer- at Thor.

"Or we could develop a points system," Natasha presented as an alternative.

"Ten points to Revenant for finesse, fifteen to Hulk for distance. And four to Thor for actually catching him." Steve hurls his shield at a tree that snarls and uproots itself.

Grinning, DJ steps aside as the tree hits the ground with a crash. "Thor Odinson. Four for you Thor Odinson. You go Thor Odinson."

"And none for Hawkeye. Bye," Tony snickers through the comm.

Steve catches his shield as it comes back to him and gives DJ a confused look. "What?"

"Twenty-first century pop culture thing," she shrugs. "Don't even try to understand it."

Clint grunts from his spot on the roof, clutching his stomach where the sorceress elbowed him. "A little help here?" He throws his body weight at her, pinning her down. "She's trying to animate the entire park."

"Environmentalists," Tony comments with disdain, swooping down to scoop up the sorceress and soar back into the sky. "They never know when to quit."

Steve watches the trees that were inching out of the ground sink back to their original position as the sorceress wails at her sudden height. "Thor! Take Houdini up with Iron Man, get him out of range. Hawkeye, get into contact with SHIELD and have them send over some agents with cuffs. Black Widow's on crowd control. Me and Revenant can wrangle the big guy."

The Hulk grunts and lifts a Taxi over his head, coiling his muscles in preparation for smashing.

"Hulk! No!" Steve picks up his shield, scolding him like a dog.

The car floats gently out of his hands and settles back on the street, no worse for wear. Hulk grumbles in surprise but does no more retaliation than a mutinous pout.

"Where are your manners, Steve?" DJ teases as the Captain sags with relief. "Even rage monsters like it when you say please."

Steve gives her a smile that crumbles when her knees give out under her. He catches her with an arm around her waist, holding her against his chest. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," she breathes squirming away from him, too hot at his touch. "I guess my heart hasn't caught up with my brain. Your smile still makes me weak at the knees."

"Sure." He gives her a stern look. "Try taking it easy. No more juggling cars until Bruce gives you the all clear."

She rolls her eyes and climbs over a pile of shredded shrubs on her way over to Hulk. "I think what you meant to say was 'Good job minimizing damage to the city, DJ. Fury will sure be pleased with all the swell work you're doing. Golly gee!'"

"What was with that little voice? I don't sound like that."

"Of course not," she assures half-heartedly reaching a hand out to Hulk. "Come on, buddy. Let's go for a walk before you change and traumatize some children with your nudity."

* * *

Steve doesn't think anyone notices. He knows for sure that she doesn't. The way he watches her- gliding across the room, laughing, teasing, sparring, wrapped up in that sad, distant look- it's constant. It's always been like that, though. Impossible to look away from her.

When he met her his life was up in the air. He was out of place, just floating along, almost ceasing to exist when the world wasn't in danger. And Bruce had Tony and Tony had him and Pepper most of the time, then there was Clint and Natasha who were a solid unit, and even Thor had Jane and Darcy to help him acclimate. Steve was just displaced.

DJ was a whirlwind and a disaster even before he knew she had that extra special something. But she was his anchor. She was that thing that Steve could call his. That person that he could talk to, that he knew would listen. That would look at him with a soft smile and open arms and teasing words that were sweet instead of mean.

She stayed when he barely knew how to string an acceptable sentence together around her. And when being with him meant having strangers wave guns in her face. And when he ached so terribly from missing his past that his lips wouldn't stop flapping.

It takes a hell of a woman to hold a man while he cries about how much he loves somebody else. But Daisy did. And she shut him up when he fumbled for words. And she laughed down the barrel of a pistol.

Bucky had explained to him what it felt like to fall in love, because Bucky had fallen in love plenty of times. He said it's like the snap of your fingers, or the flash of a camera, or a strike of lightning. It's one moment where a girl says something, or does something, or looks at you a certain way and suddenly you can't breathe because everything that she is just hits you. And you're in love. And that's what it was like with Peggy.

Daisy was different.

She came to him in increments. Every move she made was a drop in a pool, and eventually Steve was standing in the middle of this body of water as it rose over his head and pulled him under and drowned him. She filled his lungs until all he could breathe was her. And that was love, too.

And then she started to crack and fall apart and there was nothing Steve could do to stop it because she was the only one who knew how. He sees the spots of blood on her clothes. Her trembling fingers. Her buckling knees.

And he sees her crying sometimes, silently. But he doesn't know if it's because she has a broken heart, or if it's because she's dying.

And it's not that he doesn't love her. Because he does. He's still lost at sea without a life jacket.

It's that he can't bear to lose anyone else. Because she stays when people need her and she leaves when they don't. And that's what will kill her in the end. Her choice to keep on loving even when she has no reason to.

But he is losing her.

He doesn't know how to stop it.

* * *

Yes, I am a little ashamed that I made a Mean Girls reference in this chapter... It was an accident. Reviews please? Because you guys are so ridiculously awesome. I think there are about two chapters left. And then you'll want to punch me. And then I'll write a sequel ;]


	14. Vulnerability

"Excuse me? Excuse me! Hey! Blondie!" Steve and DJ snap their heads up. "Or both of you. Interview?"

They exchange glances, looking wearily over at the man in a crisp suit leaning over the barricade. Steve sighs, mumbling, "Good press."

The reporter knows he's won when they sport poorly hidden pouts and scuffle over. He grins, thumbing the button on his tape recorder. "Can I get your names?"

"Captain America."

"Revenant."

He rolls his eyes. "Your _real_ names."

"You're not very polite for somebody who wants us to stop cleaning up rubble to talk to you," DJ sasses right back. "If Captain America was going to walk around handing out his name he wouldn't be wearing a cowl. I'm DJ. That's all you get."

"Why _is_ Captain America the only one who hides behind a mask?" He jumps on it like a dog with a bone. "Even Tony Stark flaunts his identity. Thor causes a stir just by being a God. Banner is labeled a public threat by hundreds of different organizations world-wide. Romanoff and Barton are at the most risk just by being ordinary people. And we'll have worked out Revenant's full name by the end of the work day. What makes Captain America such a coward?"

DJ flushes red with anger. "A _coward_? Did you just allow yourself to be swallowed by a giant slug, asshole? Because I'm pretty sure that was Cap. I don't think wanting a little privacy makes anyone a coward."

"I didn't mean any disrespect," the reporter clarifies, but he doesn't sound very sorry. "I just meant that Captain America is the press's favorite good boy. What does he do on his time off that he doesn't want people to know about?"

Steve shrugs a little shyly. "I don't do anything. I draw."

"He has a hard enough time getting his team to cooperate and follow some modicum of the rules; he doesn't need to tip-toe around the paparazzi, too. And he's not shameless like Tony. If someone started spreading awful rumors it would hurt him. He's a paragon of virtue even when he's not wearing the costume."

The reporter holds his hands out defensively. "Alright. Point taken. But until we've been proven otherwise, the magazine will have to assume he's horribly ugly."

"Come on, man. The mask covers like thirty percent of his face. You totally know he's not ugly."

He barks out a laugh. "Yeah. You're right. All the women at work are always swooning over his strong jawline. You don't wanna know what the guys say about _you_. You two are like crime fighting Barbie and Ken."

DJ narrows her eyes and gives him a nasty smile. "Barbie wouldn't tell you to go fuck yourself."

"_She_ would," Steve tells him, as if he couldn't figure it out on his own, with a smug smirk.

"None of you like to take compliments," the reporter pulled a sour face. "Romanoff pepper sprayed me once."

DJ hums, trying not to be too amused. "You were lucky then. Anything else?"

"Is it true you're dating Stark?"

"_No_. Is that rumor still going around? We eat together occasionally. We're friends. It's a thing. He's with Pepper." She stops him before he can open his mouth again. "And before you ask I'm not with any of the other Avengers, either… Men and women _can_ coexist in a purely professional capacity."

He clicks off his recorder and gives her a smarmy smile. "Are you interested in dinner then? With me?"

"If I was, I wouldn't tell you to fuck off."

Steve puts his hand on her lower back and starts to lead them away, calling over his shoulder, "And she _is_."

"I don't think that was actually **good** press," DJ comments as they start to meander back towards the tower.

"You said I was virtuous and asserted the fact that we're professionals. It could've been worse."

She huffs a laugh. "You're right. They could've interviewed Tony."

"You handled it better than you think," he assured. "His questions were trite. And offensive. He was an ass. But you didn't have to get upset on my behalf."

"Don't be stupid. Just because we're not screwing anymore doesn't mean I don't still love you." She ignores his wince and powers forward. "I'd still do anything for you, Steve. Defending your 'honor' isn't really that big of a deal."

They reach the elevator and Steve swipes off his cowl. "But was he right? Just a little? About hiding behind the mask? Because sometimes I wonder why I've been ordered to remain anonymous. It didn't used to be that way."

"Steve. No. Of course he's not right." She reaches out to stroke his cheek but stops halfway there, remembering that's not something she can do anymore. Her fingers hang awkwardly in the air for a moment before her arm drops back down to her side. "You're having a hard enough time adjusting to the twenty-first century, you don't need people speculating what you believe, trying to take advantage of your old-fashioned belief system to get you to back their ideals. And if you stood up and told people you were frozen for seventy years and really originated in the forties, do you think they'd believe you? Do you think they'd take you seriously after that? Because aliens and sorcerers and robots might be something they can handle because they've seen it, but a ninety-something man who looks like a very good twenty-five isn't going to be accepted without a lot of evidence and conjecture."

Steve's lips give a lopsided curl and he shuffles a half-step closer. She can feel his body heat rolling over her, almost as hot as his gaze. "You're good at that."

"What?" She was distracted by the way one of his hands ghosted down the side of her arm.

"Saying the right thing. Making people feel better." His other hand comes up to rest against her neck, thumb hooked under her jaw.

Her breath catches and she fights to keep her eyes from fluttering shut. "And you're bad at this."

"What?"

"Breaking up with somebody." She knocks his hand away and steps off the elevator.

Steve's not far behind, a slight flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "It, um, it doesn't have to be uncomfortable like it is with Tony and Pepper. We can still be friends."

"Okay. Great. That'd be awesome. But _that_? The touching? Not what friends do."

DJ doesn't stop walking, doesn't look back at him while she talks, so Steve grabs at her wrist to stop her. It's a bit more forceful than he intends, because when he plants his feet DJ's jerked back against him with enough momentum that they end up as a heap on the floor. She groans, wiggling under his weight, and Steve quickly pushes up on his elbows to relieve the pressure. "Er, sorry."

She shifts her hips and Steve moans, a hand shooting down to her waist to stop the friction. Their eyes lock and- _yeah_. There's the heat again. DJ licks her suddenly dry lips and Steve shudders at the sight. Steve's mouth inches down, barely brushing soft against hers when she starts to giggle.

"What? What now?"

"Sorry," she sighs happily. "It's just… It's funny. Everyone thinks you're this goodie two-shoes. They haven't seen what you're like in bed."

Steve snorts and rolls so that he's lying beside her on the floor. "Is that something a friend would say?"

"It depends what kind of friends you have. If you have a lot of friends like that, you probably shouldn't tell me. I'd get jealous."

He bumps her lightly in the side with his elbow. "You don't need to be jealous. No one's like you. I-"

"Stop it," DJ orders firmly but not unkindly. "It's better this way."

"Is it?"

She rolls over onto her side, propping up on an elbow. "You made your choice, Steve, and that's fine, but you can't go back and forth with it. I can survive losing you. But only once. For what it's worth, though…" Her free hands slides into one of his. "I _do_ think it's better this way. We're too different. I'm damaged goods and you're-"

"I'm not perfect," he sounds almost irritated that he'd have to remind her.

DJ gives a bit of a grimace. "You never show me that you're not."

He wants to shake her and say _maybe you're not looking hard enough_, but all that comes out is, "Because you always seem to want me to be."

"Trust me, there's nothing I'd love more than for you to be a total fuck-up."

A loud crash from the other room cuts off any response Steve might have had. "Get the others over here, quick," he orders as they both scramble to their feet.

"Comms are down," she growls in frustration. "This is clearly karma for leaving the site before clean-up was finished."

Steve holds an arm out to stop her before she can run and confront the intruder. "The alarm's not going off."

She pauses for a beat until it dawns on her. "So either Tony forgot his key and made a crash entrance, or it's Doom."

"Listen to me. And I mean really listen this time." His hands are tight around her shoulders, probably bruising, and his eyes are steely and terrified at the same time. "He's not going to hurt you, you've got something he wants. He won't hurt me either because that will ruin his chances of you going willingly. He's going to want you pliant and agreeable. But you're Daisy, so you're not going to be that way, are you? Are you?"

"N-no."

"Good. So you're going to very stubbornly hide behind me and let me hold him off until the others get back, alright?"

"Alright." Because just the thought of being back in Doom's hands turns her blood to ice.

Steve smiles shakily. "And one more thing-"

"Don't do something stupid like say you love me or kiss me." Her eyes start to swell with tears. "I'd have to punch you, because it'd sound an awful lot like goodbye."

He gives her a hug instead, mumbling against her cheek. "Not goodbye. I'm not done with you yet."

The lights flickered as they slowly rounded the corner, finding Doom waiting patiently in the middle of a sea of broken window shards. Even through his stoic face plate he looks bored. "This is the best the world has to offer?"

"You have no idea," DJ puts on a brave face, standing a few paces behind Steve, as instructed.

Doom huffs a dark laugh. "I do actually. I know everything about them. SHIELD should really invest in paper documents from now on." He turns his unimpressed gaze to Steve. "Steve Rogers. Resident man out of time. I have something that might fix that."

"Not interested in anything you have to offer," Steve grounds out through clenched teeth.

"Noble," Doom spits out like it's a disease. "I thought you had better taste than that, Daisy. I thought you liked your men with a little less backbone. I can remove his, if you'd like."

She tries to hide the tremor in her voice, coming out unsuccessful. "You lay a hand on him and you'll be sorry."

"Will I?" Doom mocks. "Because you have to know that I've come prepared if you're cowering behind your little boyfriend. Sorry, ex-boyfriend. The brawn got some brains and left before you could drag him down like everyone else."

"Don't talk to her," Steve snaps, raising his shield offensively. "I don't know what you have planned, but she's not going anywhere with you."

Doom huffs a cruel laugh. "I've been watching, you know. You think nobody sees you, but I do. You swoon after her like a pathetic child. You don't even know where to look when she's wearing that silly costume. You love her, so you let her go because you think it'll keep her from loving you- make her less vulnerable. But it didn't work, and me and her have a deal. It is conditional, however."

"Yeah, I heard. She goes with you and you won't hurt me. I'm flattered to get that sort of consideration, but I'm not afraid of you." Steve slings his shield, but it gets knocked aside by a blast of energy. With one quick lunge he has Doom pinned against the wall with an arm against his chest.

"How conceited," Doom replies drolly. "You're not the only one she cares about. You've met sweet little Dana, haven't you Captain? Very pretty, but not very bright. She walks home alone very late every night. It'd be a shame if someone stepped out of the shadows to accost her. Snap that weak neck of hers. Would you really stand in the way of her sister's safety? More importantly, do you think Daisy would let you?"

Steve's grip slacked for only a half second and before he knew it he was crumpling to the floor in pain. Doom strode over to where DJ stood in resignation, cold metal fingers curling around her throat. Steve uses the wall for support as he struggles back to his feet, heart pumping fast, eyes wide in worry. "Get your hands off of her."

"Steve," he voice is soft and sad. Defeated. Because she's got an awful headache and she can feel the tickle of blood in her ears, but she's not going anywhere. And she's terrified but nothing's even hinting at thrashing around the room. "I don't know if he stole the plans from Tony or if he developed his own, but he's got atom stabilizers. My powers won't work."

"What do you mean _stole the plans from Tony_?" Steve forces his legs to work, fighting against the waves of pain left over from the shock. "Stark went behind my back and… How could he…"

DJ gives a shuddering sigh, moving willingly into Doom's hold. "That's not important now, Steve, and you know it. Don't ignore this, don't pretend it's not bad just because you're upset that you can't fix it. I have to go. It's me or my family, Steve. You'd make the same choice. Don't pretend you wouldn't."

"We can keep them safe," Steve disputes hotly, reaching out for her hand as Doom clamps down on her other. "You're not alone anymore, remember?"

"But I am." And that sounds more like goodbye than any 'I love you' he could give her. "In this I am. You can't watch them twenty-four seven. Not while keeping yourselves safe. And there are always more people Doom can get to, because without meaning to I left behind a trail of people I care about while I was out running away from the world."

Doom tugs her against him and her fingers slip out of Steve's.

"It's okay, though. He wouldn't come for me now unless he was planning something big, right? So the way I look at it, there are two outcomes." She tries to smile, but it's a fragile gesture. "It'll end up killing me, or you guys will save me. Either way I won't suffer for long."

She's dragged with her feet out from under her towards the gaping window.

"I'll do my best, Steve. I promise. I'm not the same person I used to be." Her and Doom teeter on the ledge. "I'll see you soon."

They tip backwards and fall out of sight, leaving Steve colder than even seventy years on ice.

* * *

So, as earlier stated, there should only be one more chapter after this. Unless, of course, I write it and it ends up being ridiculously long and I have to split it. But either way, very soon this will be finished. I don't have the sequel entirely mapped out yet, so I've come up with a little idea. I've been toying around with doing a very-mini-series of "deleted scenes" while I work out the details of the sequel so you guys aren't just waiting around. College will be starting soon, so it might be really hectic at first, so starting off with a mini-series might be for the best anyway. I'd love opinions on these, and I'd love requests for scenes you'd like to see even more. I adore you guys more than anything. Hit me up.


	15. It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn

DJ's pushed down to the cold concrete floor, skinning her palms. She sits back on her heels and scowls at the cuffs on her wrists as Doom stalks off towards a machine. "Stop treating me like a dog. If you want something from me you'll have to take the stabilizers off eventually, and you won't want me pissed off when you do."

"You're mouthier than last time," Doom comments offhandedly, flicking some switches. "I'm not so sure I like it."

She sneers and wobbles back up to her feet, unbalanced. "What pity. I do so aim to please."

"No matter." He turns a crank and a sterile metal table is lowered vertically into the machine, bindings in each corner. "You won't be able to talk for much longer, anyway."

"What's that?" She asks wearily, backing up as Doom strides back over to her. "It doesn't exactly look user friendly."

Doom's strong fingers tangle in her curls, jerking her head back. "It's not."

"So it's a present for me, then."

* * *

"Calm down, Steve." Natasha grips his shoulder both firmly and comfortingly. "She's obviously got a plan, or she wouldn't go without a fight."

Steve shrugs away from her touch before his anger gets the best of him. "She's got a plan, alright. I just don't agree with it. Her and Tony have been going behind my back working on those stabilizers I explicitly vetoed."

"It's not like that," Tony rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You make it sound so sordid."

"You knowingly put her at risk!" Steve bellows, red in the face. "And now look where she is! She's practically signed her own death warrant!"

Steve shoves Tony into the counter with a clatter, and Tony shoves back with a growl. "She was already dying! She knows it, you know, we _all_ know it! And you can't make that my fault just because there isn't a fight you can win to fix it! It was the least I could do- giving her some peace of mind that if she fizzled out she wouldn't be dragging the people she loved down with her."

Effortlessly Thor pushes them apart, a stern look on his face. "Quarreling will help no one. There may still be hope. Do not waste precious minutes finding blame."

"Thor's right," Natasha agree. "And I don't admit that often. I've activated the tracker Tony installed in her jacket; she's not all that far. We need to move."

* * *

DJ struggled against the wrist and ankle straps as the machine whirred to life. A robotic arm extends out from the side of the table, a long glowing needle attached at the end. It slowly wormed it's way under the flesh of her forearm, making her arch her back and howl.

"We haven't even gotten to the nasty part, yet," Doom mocks from beside her. "Well, I can only assume what's coming is worse. I've personally never been forcibly ripped apart atom by atom before."

"It's fun," DJ breathes through the pain. "You should try it."

"Obnoxious to the very end, I see." Doom shakes his head and flips a few more switches. "You know, you should really thank Mr. Stark when he comes for you. I'd been working on this for months, but when he drew up the plans for the stabilizer it greatly helped the project along. It wasn't hard to reverse the effects at all."

A metal finger trails teasingly down the side of DJ's face, making her jerk away in disgust. "Well I highly doubt you'd expend so much effort just to gruesomely murder me, so why don't you just tell me the crux of this little plan? It's obvious you're dying to horrify me with it."

Doom gesture to the middle of the room with a flick of his wrist, drawing her attention to a large metal arch. "After you're completely stripped of your self-control your powers will be channeled through to the arc, which will slowly turn to dust everything which comes within range. Of course it's range really depends on how distressed you are, but I think I can handle that."

"That's a cute plan. Well thought out and all, but the stabilizer cuffs will counteract the destabilizer. You'd have to take them off- which you know- but what's keeping me from using my powers on you?

A much sharper, thicker needle appears at her throat. "Safety protocols. You use your power on me and I use my equipment on you."

"But if you use your equipment on me your machine turns off," DJ argues back goadingly.

"And you die," Doom snaps back impatiently.

The smile that curls at her lips is a little manic. "Funny thing about that- I'm already dying. It won't be a lot of days to lose. In fact, I'm thinking I'm so far gone that your atom arc here won't last very long."

"Ah, yes. I heard about that," Doom said distractedly, more attention on the symbols flitting across his screens than the issue at hand. "Reed's fault, I believe. His pathetic attempt knocked some things out of order in that brain of yours. No matter. I've developed a solution. You won't die until I allow it."

* * *

"So there's just a gigantic tower being used as a villainous base in the middle of the city and _nobody noticed_?" Tony's feet land on the sidewalk with a clunk, drawing the attention of the other Avengers.

Clint shrugs. "Seven superheroes live in a gigantic tower in the middle of the city and no one seems to care. Besides, not much we could do until he made his move. Can't exactly say '_Hey you look evil_' and take him into custody. Diplomatic relations, and all."

"Fuck Latveria," Tony exclaims glibly. "It's tiny. We can wipe it off the map."

"So much for world peace," Bruce remarks dryly.

"Don't be jealous. I'd threaten to decimate a country for you too, big guy. She's my friend, and I don't take kindly to people taking things that are mine."

Natasha takes a break from scouting the entrances to comment over the comms. "Yours? I'm sure she'd love to hear that. Leave the possessive comments to the Captain."

"She's not _mine_ either," Steve replies indignantly. "Even if we were still together, she's an independent woman, and-"

"I agree with the Captain," Thor rumbles. "If anything he belongs to her. I do believe Midgardians use the phrase, '_she wears the pants_.'"

"She does not- I can't- Why would- Enough chatter!" Steve splutters. "It's time to be professional. Revenant's counting on us. Widow, have you found a viable point of entry?"

"There's a camera trained on every door, window, and vent, and our equipment's doing nothing to disable them. There aren't any signs of killer robots on the way, so I'd say our presence isn't all that unexpected."

"Good," and Steve can practically _hear_ the grin in Tony's voice. "The front door's always best for making a grand entrance."

A repulsor blast knocks the door off its hinges with a noisy clatter. Steve tries not to feel mildly placated by the reckless destruction.

* * *

"The more things you try to stick in me, the more it looks like desperate innuendo." DJ eyes Doom as he swoops towards her with yet another ominously pointy object.

"This one's not for you," Doom responds, clearly not amused, as the sharp end is plugged into a jack of a nearby machine. The cord branches out to two small triangles at the end, which Doom sticks to each of DJ's temples. "These are."

DJ wiggles her eyebrows experimentally, feeling her skin pinch under the heavy adhesive. "What are these, then? Twenty words or less. You tend to ramble and I tune you out."

"Consider your brain a computer," he explains a little smugly. "And this has the capability to restore you to factory settings. Or to revert it to an older version of its self. Consider it augmentation aided by a form of time travel."

She pauses, staring blankly over at him. "That was definitely thirty-seven words. All these brilliant inventions and you can't even do simple math."

"Regardless of how annoying you are, I won't rip you apart until you've served a purpose. But do your friends a favor and shut up. I can control how quickly the process goes."

Fear grips her like an icy hand around her throat. "You promised. You gave me your word. You said you wouldn't hurt them, and everyone knows you don't break your word."

"Of course." Doom waves her off. "I won't lay a finger on them. But I never said _you_ wouldn't hurt them."

"You son of a-"

"Quiet now," Doom demands. "They'll be here soon and I've got a brain to fix and a… What did you call it? An atom arc? I think I like that. I've got an atom arc to start."

He gently thumbs a button and waves of warmth pulse through her skull. It doesn't hurt at all- in fact, it's actually kind of nice. It tingles and she can almost _feel_ something shifting in her head, and the gentle thrum lulls her into a near trance. Her eyes droop and her head sags forward and she very nearly falls asleep.

But then there's the click of him pulling a lever and the pressure of his hands on her wrists removing the stabilizer cuffs and she feels a searing pain surge down her right arm as the needle jolts forward slightly. All of the equipment in the room shifts an inch and groans as if it's under tons of pressure. And it probably is, because the arc is glowing. And she's pretty sure that if she feels like she's being shredded to pieces, everything else within reach feels the same way.

There's a crash and a roar and then an agitated Hulk barrels through the wall. Natasha is at his side, gun raised, trained on Doom. DJ wants to call out to them, warn them away, but when she opens her mouth all she can do is scream until her throat is raw and bow her back.

Thor crashes in from the opposite wall with Clint close at his heels. The shorter man drops down to his feet, readying an arrow. Tony bursts up through the floor, Steve on his back. They're the closest to the arc, and the panic that sets in DJ's chest makes her powers briefly flare. The six of them slide closer towards the center of the room against their will.

DJ closes her eyes, trying to ignore the pain, ignore the destruction. She takes deep breathes through clenched teeth, calming herself down. "Get… Get back," she manages through a hoarse voices. "Stay away from the arc."

Electricity surges from the tips of Doom's fingers, frying the spot on the ground that Steve swiftly rolls and dodges. But that puts Steve that much closer to the arc.

"Hawkeye, get to work with explosives on the surrounding machinery," Steve directs as holds his shield up against another blast. Thor and Iron Man contain Doom. Take him out if the opportunity presents itself. I want Widow on extraction of Revenant. Me and Hulk will give this arc our worst."

Mjölnir spins across the room and collides with Doom's chest, throwing him back a couple feet into the wall. Tony blasts him with a repulsor for good measure, but as Thor's hammer finds its way back to his huge fist Doom is only incapacitated for a brief second.

Natasha edges around the walls, keeping as much distance between her and the arc as possible until she nears DJ. There's a high risk- only a few yards separate the blonde and the machine, and there's no telling if the radius of atomization has increased despite DJ's efforts. Natasha takes a chance and leaps.

She lands safely next to DJ, expelling the tiniest of sighs in relief. She straightens up and her quick eyes dart over the contraption, lingering on the sharp point just centimeters away from DJ's jugular vein. When she mutters something in Russian, DJ figures she doesn't have to be fluent in the language to figure out what it was.

"I agree," DJ attempts humor through the agonizing pain. It falls flat, but it's something to distract her from potentially murdering six of the people she loves the most.

An arrow lands and detonates and flaming pieces of debris pass alarmingly close to the two women. The table shakes and the thick needle knicks DJ's skin, and the needle lodged in her arm jars and causes another bout of excruciating pain.

The arc glows and shakes and purrs and DJ can feel the vines of her power reaching out.

Hulk lifts a piece of heavy wall over his head and hurls it at the machine. It disintegrates into a thousand microscopic bits before it even gets close.

"New plan!" Steve decides after his shield bounces off the ceiling, crumbling down beams and plaster only to have that turned to dust as well. "Explosions are bad. Upsetting Revenant is bad. Redirect to-"

A blast of energy cuts Steve off mid-sentence, tossing him to the ground. Doom strides across the room- leaving Tony who's armor is twitching and short circuiting, and Thor who is dragging himself out from a pile of rubble- to stand over Steve, a heavy foot at the back of his neck.

DJ's heart rate picks up, she can't help it, and as Hulk snarls and steps forward his feet are pulled out from under him. He has to curl his giant green fingers around a support beam to keep from getting sucked into the arc.

"Calm down," Natasha futilely demands, eyes flicking nervously over the board of controls. This time when she curses it's not in Russian. "Fuck. Captain! I can't figure out the controls."

Steve looks more calm than anyone, even under the pressure of Doom's foot. "Iron Man-"

"Working on it," Tony groans picking himself off the ground. He only makes it a few feet before the arc draws him closer, too, and it's only Thor's strong grip that saves him from being turned into a pile of dust.

Doom tugs on one of Steve's arms, dislocating a shoulder, before dragging him to his feet with a firm grip around his throat. "I think this is where I make my exit. Take care not to stop me, or your Captain will find himself in pieces."

"Natasha," DJ ignores the sharp look sent her way for abandoning field names. "I don't give a fuck what Steve said. Go after him. Save him. Leave me."

"I don't take orders from you."

Regardless of the shooting pain through her body DJ still finds it in her to rolls her eyes. "Yeah. Got it. I'm probably the lowest ranking person at SHIELD, with exception to the guy who always plays Galaga. But I'm the one in the machine. And I'm the one that knows what to do. That involves you moving your ass out of the way."

Natasha purses her lips and nods curtly. "When we make it out of this I'll bruise you in a multitude of ways for talking to me like that." She pulls out her guns and aims carefully, bullets bouncing off Doom's armor.

"Clint…" She doesn't see him, but she knows he's there.

"Are you sure?"

DJ laughs through another spike of agony. "This is what it's for, right? I don't see any other way."

"I do," and several pairs of eyes turn to see Bruce hanging from the ceiling.

"Bruce!" Tony exclaims a little hysterically. "What are you doing being Bruce?"

He readjusts his grip, and grimaces in discomfort at being naked. "Not much I could do as a rage monster. But as a scientist I can try and figure that thing out. I'm closer than you, Tony. I have a better chance of making it."

"You have a better chance at dying!" DJ clarified. "Don't you dare let go. The pull is getting stronger. You won't last a second."

There's a clunk and a grunt as Natasha gets her thighs around Doom's neck, and Steve is hurling his shield. Doom hits the floor hard and retaliates with a surge of electricity, which briefly paralyzes Natasha but misses Steve. Natasha's limp body starts to drag towards the center of the room.

"Clint! Do it!"

"Whatever it may be, action must be taken soon," Thor grits out. One arm is wrapped tightly around a support pole, while the other keeps Tony from flying to his death. "Even I cannot maintain this grip for much longer."

Steve lunges and just barely catches Natasha's hand, and Doom takes that opportunity to escape through the window. The cement floor is starting to crack, and one of the walls is giving away to particles.

"The structural integrity of the place is getting pretty questionable," Tony warns.

"I can do this," Bruce insists, one hand slipping from the ceiling beam. "Just give me the chance."

"No!" DJ screams, and more of the building disappears. "Clint you have a clear shot! Take it!"

There's a hesitating silence, and then a shuffle from somewhere in the ceiling. "Cap?"

Steve's beautiful blue eyes meet DJ's, wide and watery and conflicted. "I… Daisy… No."

_"_Think about it Steve," she pleads, a numbness settling into where her heart should be. "The more upset I get the more powerful this thing is. If I hurt you- any of you… If you die I'm going to be _very_ upset. I could wipe out the entire city."

"No one has to get hurt," Steve tries, but his voice sounds defeated. Resigned. "Bruce said he could stop it."

"He- God damn it! Clint! This isn't Steve's call to make! Why do you think the stabilizer's yours? I trust you! Now take the fucking shot! It's what I want!"

Bruce lets go of the beam and there's a terrifying span of seconds where he's just falling and drifting closer and closer towards the arc and all DJ can do is scream and thrash and cry. But then there's a sharp pain through her gut and everything just stops.

Her mouth hangs open in shock, body trembling, blood trickling from the wound. Bruce lays only inches away from where the radius of the arc should be. But he's safe now. Everyone's safe.

"Thank you," she breathes as Clint drops down beside her. She slumps forward, body going slack.

Steve stands, back rigid. "Everyone evacuate." The command is soft, devoid of strength. He looks over at Bruce a little uncertainly. "Can you…?"

Bruce nods as the others scramble to follow the Captain's orders. The building continues to groan and fall around them. Steve doesn't seem to notice, walking like a zombie towards DJ's wilted form.

He'd lost people before. Good people. Like Bucky, to the mountains. Howard, to an accident before he'd even woken up. Peggy, to time. But he'd never been left with a body before.

Bruce fiddles with the switches, and there's a hiss and whir as the needles move away. He gently peels away the adhesive triangles from her skin, grimacing as he feels her starting to go cold. His hands trace lightly around the cuffs, looking for a release button. Steve gets impatient and leans around him, breaking each restraint with his bare hands.

The body falls into Steve, and he scoops her up in his arms. She's pale and limp and bleeding, but there's a shallow rise to her chest that gives Steve hope. The arrow still sticks out- ugly and cruel- but he knows better than to remove it himself.

Him and Bruce maneuver around the destruction, hurrying as fast as they can to avoid being crushed while trying not to jostle DJ's body. She whimpers and Steve pauses for a brief second at the exit as her hazel eyes crack open.

"Steve…" Her hand weakly reaches up to rest against his cheek, and he nuzzles into it.

"Stay with me," he whispers. "Please. Stay with me."

Her lips quirk up into a sad smile. "Now would be a good time to say it…"

"I love you," his voice quivers as his grip tightens. "I love you, so you gotta stay with me, okay?"

"Love you, too." She reaches up, making her wince, and pushes his cowl back. "Such a handsome face. Still don't know how I had you."

"Have me," he insists. "You still have me, Daisy. You're gonna get better and I'll apologize and everything will be fine."

There are flashes of cameras and the crash of the building and the roar of a fire. Screams and shouts and the whine of sirens. But all Steve notices is her.

"I'd never been in love before, ya know?" Her voice is thinner. Weak. "But I'm glad I finally got to. And I'm glad it was you."

DJ's eyes close and all the sounds come rushing to Steve's ears.

* * *

The first thought that she thinks is that she never wants to be in another hospital ever again. The first thing she hears is a gasp of surprise from her bedside. But the first person she sees isn't Steve. It's Tony.

"Try not to look so disappointed."

She laughs. "Sorry. I just figured… You know… That he'd be here. I've got a few things to say."

"Well I'm sure he's got a few things to say to you, too." Tony sinks back in his chair relief worming its way onto his haggard face. "He'll kick himself when he hears you're awake. He stayed here for eight days straight waiting for you. We all made him go home a couple hours ago."

"Don't tell him just yet," she says, even as the beeps on her heart monitor quicken embarrassingly at the thought of Steve by her side for all that time. "I don't think he'll like what I have to say."

Tony frowns, looking down at the stained floors. "I figured he probably wouldn't. But if you ask me, you're being pretty stupid."

"I wasn't asking you," she retorts, not unkindly, just factually.

"Right." A beat. He looks back up at her. "Was it my fault?"

DJ shakes her head, getting as comfortable as she can in the hospital bed. "No. Doom was working on it himself. It was only a matter of time before he figured it out. You just sped the process up... And, well, if you hadn't I might have died before he got the chance to use it. And then he wouldn't have fixed my brain… So in a way you kind of saved my life, didn't you?"

"Steve's right," he huffs. "You _are_ good at that."

"I hope he hasn't been telling you what else I'm good at," she says with a devilish grin.

Tony laughs his first real laugh in over a week. "Regardless of how much I beg, he hasn't told me about any of _that_." His happy expression turns a little bittersweet. "So when are you leaving?"

"It's not like that," she sighs.

"Isn't it?"

"I almost killed you, Tony," she reasons. "I almost killed all of you. And potentially all of New York. That's not something I can just get over."

He moves to sit on the edge of her bed. "And no one expects you to, either. We're all a little shaken up. It comes with the territory. But that's what a team's for. We help each other, or something. I'm still working on that. But you don't need to be alone. I tried that once. Didn't work out so well."

"I won't be alone."

Tony scowls. "Logan?"

"_No_. I'm not just going to- No. I'm not disappearing on you guys, okay? I'm just going home. To my family. My biological one, I mean. It's where I need to be. I can't be a superhero right now. I just need to be… I need to be Daisy for now."

"And this Daisy character, is she still friends with Tony Stark?"

"Best friends. Sadly." She scrunches up her face in thought. "I need to start hanging out with people my own age."

Tony generously ignores the last comment. "Is this Daisy still in a relationship with Steve Rogers?"

"What did I tell you about trying to talk to me about relationships?" DJ gives him a stern look.

"Hey, I just want to know how far to stay away from him once you have this little talk."

"Pretty far." At Tony's exasperated expression she arches a challenging brow. "He made a bad call."

"Haven't we all?"

She scoffs, brushing off his argument. "He's your leader. He's Captain America. Good calls and saving people is who he is. He can't forget that just because one 'soldier' is on the line."

"And you're not just a _soldier_," Tony snaps vehemently.

"Exactly!" She sits up painfully, trying to get her point across. "And if I'm out there fighting, I have to be or everyone's in danger. You know it. I know it. He knows it. It's my responsibility to decide what I want more. To help people, or to have him."

* * *

__Yeah, this story totally ends there. You hate me. I know. But I'm working hard on the plot points of the sequel, I swear! If anyone does happen to be interested in the idea I offered at the end of the last chapter, speak now or forever hold your peace. If there's a demand for that, requests are officially open. But you know you want to review now. I can hear you yelling at me. 3


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